


On Wings of a Robin - Dragon Age Inquisition

by ReadedBliss



Series: The Lion and the Robin - Dragon Age Inquisition [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Drama, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Family, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Light Angst, M/M, Magic, Minor Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus, Romance, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-04-20 12:54:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 36,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14261421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReadedBliss/pseuds/ReadedBliss
Summary: Clara Trevelyan has lived her life in the Circle, dreaming of places and people she reads about in her books. All her life, she has longed for adventure, intrigue, and romance. When the explosion at the Conclave thrusts her into a journey she has only ever read about, will it prove to be the worst reality has to offer. Or will new friendships, adventure, and love be all she has wanted and more?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Dragon Age Inquisition, its characters, and story are the property of EA Games, Bioware, and their subsidiaries. All original characters are the property of the creator. This story is intended for entertainment and enjoyment purposes only and no profit is received from writing. Any and all similarities to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Prologue

The world she sees shifts and swirls like smoke. The green and gold shine like oil on water, swirling and floating like drifting ashes. And all around her, voices whisper, like soft puffs of wind in the night. Everything seems to press around her, so unreal and yet, with the right word, it feels that it could become real. A zap of pain snaps her awake.  
But is she even real? Her hair, face, eyes, even her name; it all feels unknown, as though she is not really in existence yet. And in an instant, she feels she must move. As though someone is watching her closely, she climbs to her feet and stares around, dazed and dreaming. She stands still for a time, maybe for only a few moments, or perhaps it’s hours. But when at last she does begin to move, to turn toward the light far in the distance, she feels more herself.  
As she climbs up the mountain toward the strange light, a strange clicking whine fills the air. She turns around and sees monsters climbing up behind her, their black eyes bearing down on her as their sharp-taloned legs crawl grotesquely up the stony path. Quickly, she runs until she is nearly at the summit. The light seems to reach out to her and it seems to take the shape of a woman, tall, imposing, but she reaches out to her as a child would to her mother. The shape reaches toward her and she falters, feeling the hot, rancid air of the creatures at her neck. She reaches high again and the light on her own hand, green as jade, explodes and she is thrown into reality again.

***

Clara, of House Trevelyan in Ostwick, crawls weakly on the ground, speech and air knocked from her lungs. The real world begins to blur now and she can just make out the shapes of more people coming toward her. Men, carrying swords and dressed in armor, surround her. She looks up at them. Darkness begins to spread from the edge of her vision inward. One soldier steps forward and she catches an impression of golden eyes looking down at her.

“Who are you?” he asks, his voice firm, but she can hear the hint of concern.

Clara opens her mouth but finds that there is nothing and she quickly falls into the welcoming dark of the Fade.


	2. The Wrath of Heaven Part One - Is this the real life?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Conclave has exploded, the Divine is dead and has left the Chantry in turmoil. People are looking everywhere for where the blame can be found. All that they have is one young mage who crawled from the rubble of the Temple. Rumors surround her and her escape, but the truth may be more than anyone realizes. And the young mage has a secret or two of her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragon Age Inquisition, its characters, and story are the property of EA Games, Bioware, and their subsidiaries. All original characters are the property of the creator. This story is intended for entertainment and enjoyment purposes only and no profit is received from writing. Any and all similarities to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Wrath of Heaven Part 1 - Is this the real life?

 

Clara shivered in the dungeon. The cold and clammy air had pulled her from unconsciousness and for a brief moment, she thought she was with her stepmother in Nevarra, visiting the crypts. But the sight of the soldiers dressed in Ferelden leather was enough to wake her to all memory of what had occurred...how many hours ago now? She had been out for some time, she knew, judging by the stiffness in her legs and the way the shackles had dug into her wrists. She fought down the urge to finger the ends of her dark red hair that hung over her shoulder in a braid. The green mercenary coat she had found in the chantry bins had been made for a much larger woman, not a skinny half-elf girl. But she had few choices when the circle rebelled just after her Harrowing. She had banded together with other mages who hadn’t wanted to rebel, but when word reached them about the Conclave, they had headed straight for the meeting to express their own opinions. But then….what had happened?

Nervously, she glanced down at her hand as she remembered the bright green light that had exploded from her fingers. And as she stared down, it began to glow again. She clenched her teeth as another zap of pain coursed through her skin, just as the door to the cell crashed open. Two women came in. One was dressed in a grey hood and had fixed her sharp blue eyes on Clara’s face.The other was dark haired and carrying a sword that looked twice as long as Clara.The soldiers around them sheathed their own swords as the two women descended the steps and began to circle her. Clara could feel the tension brimming to the edge. 

“Tell me why we shouldn’t kill you now?” the warrior woman asked. Her accent was not Ferelden, Clara realized. It sounded Nevarran and almost certainly out of a noble house, judging by the confident tone of each clipped vowel. Clara looked to the red-headed woman, who only continued to stand and watch her.

“The Conclave exploded, no one survived,” the warrior woman continued, “Except for you.”

“That’s--that’s not true,” Clara gasped, “It can’t be true.”

The warrior and cloaked woman looked at each other and then the warrior grabbed Clara’s hand.

“Explain this,” she said as the green mark gave a sharp sizzle of magic and seared across Clara’s hand. She pulled her hand away quickly.

“I--I can’t,” she said.

“What do you mean ‘you can’t’?” she said.

“I don’t know what this thing is or where it came from,”

The warrior grabbed the collar of Clara’s coat.

“You’re lying,” she snarled. Clara tried to push her away but her shackled hands were useless. The cloaked woman pulled the warrior back.

“We need her, Cassandra,” she said. Cassandra looked at her companion and moved away. Clara sat shaking on the floor, full of confusion, pain, and now fear. She felt a single tear trickle down her cheek. Clara quickly ducked her head to hide it. She knew she must not show any emotion while imprisoned.

“I can’t believe it,” she said, “All those people. Dead.”

Suddenly, her head lurched up, eyes wide in terror.

“You said no one survived. That means...my father, my brother...are they...?” Clara trailed off, her mind desperate to find some memory of what had happened.

“Do you remember what happened?” the cloaked woman asked. The voice was all business, but Clara was grateful to hear a touch of kindness in the tone.

“I remember running,” Clara said slowly, “Things were chasing me and then...there was...a woman?”

“A woman,” the cloaked woman said thoughtfully. She and Cassandra locked eyes again.

“She reached out to me, but then…,” Clara trailed off, her memories slipping away like water through her hands. She looked up at them.

“That’s all I know, I promise,” she said, “Please, can you tell me what happened to my family? My father and brother were at the Conclave as well.”

Cassandra marched over to the cloaked woman.

“Go to the forward camp, Leliana,” she says, “I will take her to the rift.”

Leliana nodded and left as Cassandra removed the shackles from Clara’s hands. 

“What did happen?” Clara asked softly, afraid to hear the answer. 

Cassandra looked at her with fierce indigo eyes.

“It will be easier to show you,” she said and lead Clara out of the cell. As the main door opened, Clara squinted against the bright light of day. She realized now she had been in the cell all through the night. But the most extraordinary of all was the sight of the huge hole in the sky. Not a break in storm clouds or even the eye of a storm, but an actual hole that punctured the rose and yellow light of dawn with raw magic. Energy swirled around the vortex as it pulsed and rolled amongst the clouds.Clara gazed at it, her eyes wide with terror and amazement.

“We call it the Breach,” Cassandra said. Clara pulled her eyes away to look at Cassandra. She too was staring up at the sky, “It’s a massive rift between this world and the world of demons. And it grows larger with each passing hour.”

Clara returns her eyes upwards as the vortex swirled ominously.

“Where did it come from?” she said.

“It was caused by the explosion,” Cassandra replied, “And unless we act, it will continue to grow until it swallows the world.”

The vortex pulsed and Clara screamed in pain as the mark on her palm burned and squeezed into her very heart and soul. She collapsed to the ground, curling into a ball as best as her bindings allowed.

“Each time the Breach expands so does your mark,” Cassandra said, kneeling down to her, “And it IS killing you.”

Clara sat up again, tears in her eyes as the pain subsided.

“It may be the key to closing the Breach, but we are running out of time,” Cassandra said.

“What is this a key to?” Clara asked.

“It is thought that it might close the Breach,” Cassandra replied, “Although the truth of that will be determined soon enough.”

Cassandra helped Clara to her feet.

“If I help you,” Clara said, “If I do what you ask, will I live through it?”

There was no reply and Clara knew she had her answer.

“There is no way of knowing until we try,” Cassandra said at last, “But it is our only chance. And yours.”

Clara breathed deeply.

“I understand,” she said. Cassandra looked surprised.

“Then, you will?” she asked. Clara nodded.

“I’ll do all I can to help,” she said.

Cassandra put a hand firmly on her shoulder, but she didn’t pull. She seemed to have taken Clara’s willingness to cooperate as a sign of trust. However, Clara’s hands remained bound.

As they walked into the circle of houses, Clara felt all eyes on her. And the looks are none too kind. Hostility radiates like the heat from their fires.

“They are in mourning,” Cassandra said, “And they have decided your guilt. They need someone to be guilty. The explosion has destroyed the Temple of Sacred Ashes, killed our Most Holy, Divine Justinia, and countless other people.”

“Is there really no one else who survived?” Clara asked. Cassandra didn’t turn around.

“The Conclave was issued by The Divine,” Cassandra continued, “It was the chance for peace between mages and Templars.”

“I know,” Clara said. This stops Cassandra and she turns around.

“The Conclave was an invitation to the leaders of both sides,” Clara said, “My father was amongst the leaders of the Seekers and Templars.”

“Your father?” Cassandra asked.

“A former member of the Chantry,” Clara said, “My brother is a Templar. They were both there as leaders.”

“How is it you were able to attend?”

Clara didn’t respond. The Breach had given another spasm of energy and she had doubled over in pain. Cassandra looked up.

“We lash out like the sky,” Cassandra said, “But we must think beyond our needs. We must think as she did. Until the Breach is sealed.”

The two women walked out of the village and to the bridge. Cassandra pulled a knife from her belt and Clara flinched. But Cassandra merely cut the cords that bound her wrists.

“There will be a trial,” she said as Clara rubbed her wrists, “That is all I can promise.”

“Where are we going?” Clara asked. Cassandra marched off. For an instant, Clara thought to run, but she knew she’d stand no chance with so many soldiers around. 

“Open the gate,” Cassandra shouted to the guards on the other side of the bridge, “We are heading into the valley.”

Clara hurried to catch up with Cassandra as they climbed the paths up the mountainside. Clara saw numerous bodies wrapped in linen, prepared for the pyres. More soldiers raced past them, carrying more bodies. The state of some of the bodies was beyond grotesque.

“Maker, it’s the end of the world,” one soldier said, sobbing as he carried a fallen cleric. Cassandra continued on and Clara struggled to keep up. The oversized mercenary coat and breeches made her feel clumsy and slow. But all of that was forgotten as the Breach gave another massive pulse of energy that sent Clara reeling to the ground, crying in pain. Cassandra pulled her up.

“The pulses are coming faster now,” she said, thumping Clara’s arms bracingly. Still, Clara decided to walk until she felt more in control. As they walked, Cassandra spoke more of the number of rifts opening and releasing demons. 

“How did I survive the blast?” Clara asked, changing the subject.

“You stepped out of a rift,” Cassandra replied, “And then collapsed. Behind you, there was a woman, though no one present could tell for sure. Everything farther in the valley was completely destroyed, including the Temple.”

“How badly?” Clara asked.

“I suppose you’ll see soon enough,” Cassandra said. Cassandra quickened her pace and Clara began to follow, feeling steadier. They hurried along the path until the reached the next bridge. Cassandra and Clara were near on the other side when an energy ball exploded on the stones and sent everyone tumbling to the ground below. Clara rolled to a stop and sat up, feeling sick and dizzy. Nearby, Cassandra sat up, touching her head. Another ball of energy from the Breach crashed in front of them. A demon, rose from the ground, roaring and dripping in black foulness stood in front of them.

“Keep behind me!” Cassandra shouted. Clara backed away as Cassandra surged forward to battle the demon. But another demon began to materialize at Clara’s feet. Clara looked around helplessly for anything she could use to defend herself. Laying in a pile of boxes and other rubble, was a simple wooden stave affixed with a polished crystal. Clara grabbed it and it hummed to life in her hands. She stared at the creature.

“What spell, what spell, what spell,” she muttered. The demon raised its clawed hands to attack and Clara sent a fireball at it. It’s body burst into flames, the skin charing like ram meat over the fire. In two moments, the demon was gone and Clara hurried with another fireball to throw at the demon Cassandra faced. In another few moments, both demons were gone.

“It’s over,” Clara breathed. Then she felt her throat constrict as Cassandra pointed a sword at her.

“Drop the stave,” she said, “Now.”

“If you really think that I need the stave to be dangerous,” Clara said, “Then I’ll put it down.” She lowered the stave slowly.

“Wait,” Cassandra said, “You should keep it. I can’t protect you. I should remember that you didn’t try to run. Or use your magic on me.”

Clara smiled at Cassandra returned it. She pulled a large flask from her pocket and took a sip. Then extended it to Clara.

“A potion,” she explained, “You will need it.”

Clara took a grateful sip. Then they pushed forward up the hillside. For the next few miles, it was a pattern of run, battle demons, and run again. Finally, the reached a massive fight of stairs. Ahead of them, Clara could hear shouts and cries.

“We’re getting close,” Cassandra called back, “You can hear the fighting.”

“Who’s fighting?” Clara gasped out as her thighs cramped from running up the steps.

“You’ll see soon,” Cassandra replied, “We have to hurry and help them.”

At the top of the steps, Clara gasped at her first sight of a rift. It’s shape reminded Clara of a sea urchin, its many pointed legs twitching. It might have been humorous if it wasn’t surrounded by demons trying to attack people. Clara and Cassandra raced forward. Amongst the soldiers, Clara could make out two unusual figures. One was an dwarf, firing a very strange crossbow. The other was an elf, evident by his pointed ears and lithe form as it gracefully swung about his own stave. Clara let loose another volley of fireballs as the demons were one by one snuffed out like candles. The rift contracted in on itself and melted into a sheet of energy. The elf grabbed her by the wrist.

“Quickly, before more come through!” he shouted. He lifted her arm up to the rift and energy exploded out in a long stream. Clara could feel the energy pouring into the rip in the air. And in a single instant, it sealed and vanished. Clara stared up in wonder before looking at the elf.

“What did you do?” she whispered.

“Not I, the credit is yours,” the elf said simply. Clara could tell at once that this elf was older and wiser than his apparent years. She looked at her hand. 

“I did that?” she said in amazement.

“Whatever magic created the Breach also created that Mark on your hand,” the elf explained, “I theorized that perhaps they might cancel each other out. And it seems I theorized correctly.”

“So it might indeed close the Breach,” Cassandra said, a tone of relief in her voice. The elf tilted his head thoughtfully.

“Possibly,” he said, “It seems you may hold the key to our salvation.”

“Good to know,” the dwarf said, “And here I thought we’d be ass-deep in demons forever.” He sauntered forward and gave her a broad smile. Clara smiled back, grateful for the first warm face she’d seen since she woke up.

“Varric Tethras,” the dwarf said, “Rouge, storyteller and, on occasion, unwelcome tagalong.” At this, he looked at Cassandra and winked. Cassandra glowered at him.

Clara looked at the dwarf in amazement.

“Varric Tethras,” Clara repeated, “As in Darktown’s Deal, Hard in Hightown, and Tale of the Champion. That Varric Tethras?”

Varric beamed at Clara. Cassandra gave a disgusted sound.

“I didn’t know you were with the Chantry,” Clara said. The elf chuckled softly.

“Was that a serious question?” he asked. Clara looked back at him.

“Technically, I’m a prisoner, like you,” Varric said. He smiled at Cassandra, who looked at him with a sour expression.

“I brought you here to tell your story to The Divine,” she said, “Clearly, that’s not necessary any longer.”

“And yet, here I am,” Varric said, “Considering current events, count yourself lucky.”

Clara continued to gaze at Varric in disbelief.

“I am very pleased to meet you, Mr. Tethras,” Clara said. Varric waved a hand dismissively.

“I’m not my father,” he said, “Varric will be fine.”

Clara beamed excitedly.

“You may regret that stance, in time,” the elf said.

Varric’s smile never faltered.

“Oh, you and I will get along great in the valley, Chuckles,” Varric said.

“Absolutely not!” Cassandra snapped, “Your help is appreciated Varric, but no longer…”

“Have you been in the valley lately, Seeker,” Varric interrupted, “Your soldiers aren’t in control anymore. You need me.”

Cassandra wrinkled her nose but said nothing more. She flounced away, leaving Clara with Varric and the elf. 

“My name is Solas, if we are making introductions,” the elf said, “And I am pleased that you still live.”

“He means, ‘I kept that mark from killing you while you slept’,” Varric said.

Clara looked at him. His eyes blinked at her.

“Thank you,” Clara said, “I’m glad someone was there.”

Whatever Solas expected her to say, it was not that. Cassandra called to them and signaled them forward. The small group moved off.

“You seem to know a lot about the mark,” Clara said as they walked.

“Unlike you, Solas is an apostate,” Cassandra remarked. Clara looked nervously at Solas, but he seemed unbothered by the insult. 

“Technically, all mages are now apostates,” Solas replied, “But much of my studies have taken place in the Fade. And I have learned much that goes beyond the knowledge of any Circle mage.”

Clara was impressed. Not only by his apparent knowledge, but by his disinterest in even being called an apostate. 

“And what of you?” Solas asked, “How does a half-elven mage find herself not only at the Conclave?”

Clara stopped and stared in shock, feeling Varric crash into her.

“How-how did you know?” Clara said quietly. She had always been sensitive about her parentage. So had her stepmother and step brothers, apart from Philip. But it was only due to Karl Trevelyan’s honor as a former Chantry member and as Bann in Ostwick that Clara was adopted into the Trevelyan household. But she would always be seen as his bastard.

“Several things told me,” Solas said simply, “But the biggest clue is your eyes. The elven eyes are said to be the windows into the natural world. Your eyes are a blue one only finds in the forests.”

“My mother was an elf,” Clara said, “My father had a moment of weakness many years ago, in a time of grief. But he healed. His piousness wouldn’t let him abandon his child when my mother died, so he took me in when I was three. But by then he had married a woman from Nevarra.”

At this, Cassandra glanced back to listen.

“She hates me,” Clara said, “So does her son, my older step brother, Tomas. My other step brother, Philip, is only a year younger than me. He has always been much kinder to me.”

“I was ten when my magic first appeared,” Clara continued, “My step mother wanted to send me to the Ostwick Circle, but there was fear of the Fifth Blight. My father was too busy preparing to defend against darkspawn. But when the archdemon was destroyed, my father agreed to send me. I haven’t been home since.”

“You haven’t even seen your family?” Cassandra asked. Clara shook her head.

“Philip sent me letters,” she said, “He joined the Templar Order just after the Kirkwall Rebellion began. He wanted to help resolve things peacefully. A group of other mages and I believed in self-governed circles with Templars aiding us instead of guarding us. Philip was going to meet us at the Conclave with a few like minded Templars.”

“What happened?” Varric asked. Clara closed her eyes as they passed by several fallen clerics.

“You can see what happened,” Clara said sadly. Another pulse ripped through the Breach and Clara collapsed again. Varric gripped her shoulders to keep her upright. 

“I know it is difficult, but we must keep moving,” Cassandra said. Clara nodded, despite the tears of pain and humiliation pricking her eyes. Varric helped her to stand and Solas pulled a potion from his pouch, letting her take a drink. It was good timing that she did, as the pulse had sent down several more demons. This fight was far easier with the addition of Solas and Varric. As Clara sent out her fireballs, she decided to try another spell and slammed her staff to the ground. A huge blast lightning erupted at stunned the demons, allowing Cassandra and Varric to finish them off. Black blood splattered the ground in puddles. Clara wiped the blood from her clothes. Cassandra was nearly soaked in it. Solas kindly cast a spell that removed the blood from her clothes, which Cassandra nodded appreciatively. The little party crossed the frozen lake and climbed the steps towards the plateau. The mark on her hand continued to burn and crackle. Clara gave a hiss of pain. Then she felt a squeeze on her arm. She turned around and saw Varric looking up at her.

“So, are you innocent?” Varric asked. Clara shrugged miserably.

“I can’t remember anything that happened,” she said.

“That’ll get you every time,” the dwarf said, “Should have spun a story.”

“Something you would have done,” Cassandra said. Clara smiled in spite of her pain.

“It’s more believable,” Varric said, “And you’re less prone to premature execution.”

They continued to fight their way through demons all the way up the mountain.

“I hope that Leliana has made it to camp,” Cassandra said.

“Oh, she’s resourceful, Seeker,” Varric soothed. Clara had to agree, even though she’d only met the woman for a few minutes. At the top of the stairs was another rift. Soldiers were running and fighting. But the demons continued to fall. 

“They keep coming,” a soldier shouted, “Help us!”

The snow was black with blood and demon grime. Cassandra gave a roar and charged. Varric fired bolts through the heads of the demons, splattering the stones with bits of them. Clara continued her attack of fire and lightning until every demon was gone. Then, as Solas had done, she lifted her arm to the sky and felt the same pull of energy between her hand and the rift. And, just like before, she felt the exchange of energy pass through her and seal the rift. 

“The rift is gone. Open the gate!” Cassandra shouted.

“Yes, Seeker,” the soldier obeyed and the gate opened onto yet another bridge.

“We are secure for the moment, well done,” Solas said with a comforting pat on her arm. Clara nodded to him. Varric smiled.

“Rather useful gift you have there,” he said. In spite of everything, Clara laughed.

They walked across the bridge. Near the other side, Clara saw Leliana, still dressed in her cloak, arguing with a member of the Chantry.

“I have caused trouble?” Leliana was shouting.

“Yes, you, Seeker Cassandra, the Divine herself, haven’t you all done enough as it is?” the man shouted back. He looked up as Clara appeared and glared at her. Clara felt her blood turn to ice in her veins, the same sensation she always got when the First Enchanter would catch her reading in the gardens instead of practicing her skills.

“And here they are,” the man said.

“You made it,” said Leliana, “Chancellor Roderick, this is-”

“I know who she is,” Roderick said. Clara, feeling tired of being spoken about rather than to, squared her shoulders and adopted her most authoritative nobility voice.

“My name is Clara Trevelyan,” she said, “My father is Karl Trevelyan of the city of Ostwick.”

Leliana blinked and gave a small smile as Roderick look on in shock. Cassandra was also stunned. Varric gave a soft, low whistle. Solas remained silent.

“And, that being said,” Clara said, “I would appreciate knowing a little more about what is going on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to try and keep this story as close to the narrative set down by Bioware, so there will be some dialogue taken from the game itself, at least at first. Eventually, I hope that I will be using my own narrative around Clara and her interaction between the other characters, although some dialogue will carry over, including the much-loved party banter. I don't want to just copy and paste the story we've all played, but it will be there as part of the story-driven nature of both the game and this fan work.
> 
> I'm still fairly new to the series so if I miss anything or forget an important piece of information about the series, please let me know. I'm nothing if not a willing learner.
> 
> Please leave kudos and comments. Let me know what you think. Comments are encouraging to authors everywhere and give us all a feeling of accomplishment and appreciation.


	3. The Wrath of Heaven Part Two - No escape from reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara Trevelyan faces her first major battle with the Fade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragon Age Inquisition, its characters, and story are the property of EA Games, Bioware, and their subsidiaries. All original characters are the property of the creator. This story is intended for entertainment and enjoyment purposes only and no profit is received from writing. Any and all similarities to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

The Wrath of Heaven Part 2 - No escape from reality

 

For a moment, there was only silence, save for Varric’s stifled snorts of laughter. Then Roderick squared his shoulders.

“As Grand Chancellor of the Chantry, I order you to take this criminal into custody,” he said slowly. Cassandra marched forward.

“You order me?” she barked, “You are a glorified clerk. You do not order me to do anything.”

“And you are a thug,” Roderick replied, “But a thug who is supposed to serve the Chantry.”

“Cassandra and I serve the Divine,” Leliana said calmly.

“The Divine is dead!” Roderick shouted, causing several eyes to glance back at him in mournful anger. Clara narrowed her eyes.

“We must elect a new Divine to decide what to do next.” Roderick continued.

“And what about the Breach?” Clara asked, “Will you leave that thing in the sky unattended?”

“You put “that thing” in the sky to begin with,” Roderick turned his anger on her. Clara winced but held her ground. Roderick seemed to be satisfied he’d made his point.

“Call a retreat Seeker,” Roderick said, “Our position here is futile.”

“We cannot retreat,” Cassandra said, “We must get to the Temple.”

“How?” Roderick said helplessly, “Even with all your soldiers, you have no way of clearing a path.”

“We may not need to,” said Leliana, “There is a mountainside path that leads directly to the temple.”

“We lost an entire squad on that path,” Cassandra said, “We have no one of knowing if they still live. The risk is too great.”

“They might still be alive though,” Varric said. Clara nodded. Cassandra turned to her.

“How do you think we should proceed?” she asked. Clara blinked in surprise.

“Now you’re asking me what I think?” she said. Cassandra gave a small smile, clearly aware of the shift in tone.

“You have the Mark,” Solas said.

“And you are the one we must keep alive,” Cassandra added.

Clara lowered her eyes in thought. One the one hand, the mountain pass was safer, although not necessarily demon free. And that lost squad could still be up there as well. But if she charged with the soldiers, she could be at the temple sooner and avoid more casualties. The sky pulsed again and Clara grasped her hand in pain. She felt all eyes on her, watching, waiting.

“I say we charge,” she said, at last, the pain subsiding enough for her to finally speak, “I’m running out of time. Any more delay and I don’t think I’ll be of use to anyone.”

“Leliana, bring our forces to the valley as quickly as you can,” Cassandra said.

“On your head be it, Seeker,” Roderick growled after them. Cassandra had no reaction. Clara felt Varric next to her, watching her closely as they headed up the pathway towards the temple.

“You put him in his place beautifully,” Varric said, “See Chuckles, never underestimate a redhead.” 

“I would never attempt to underestimate anyone,” Solas said, “Least of all by the color of their hair.”

Clara toyed with the mop of red hair she’d pulled back with a leather thong. Without it, it fell around her face unkempt and became a tangle of waves and curls. But she smiled at Varric, showing how much she appreciated his compliment.

“You did handle yourself very well with the Chancellor,” Cassandra said.

“I don’t like throwing my title around,” Clara said, “My stepmother does it far too much. Anyway, it doesn’t mean much as a mage, but that guy was really out of line.”

“He is frightened,” Cassandra said, “As are we all. But you did well.”

“I’m sorry about the lost party,” Clara said, “I wish we could do more.”

“We can send a contingent,” Cassandra said, “It may not do much, but it is something.”

“Better than most get,” Varric said, “And I know it wasn’t an easy decision to make.”

Clara stumbled in the snow, her clothes too loose about her and the growing pain in her hand making it harder to focus. A loose stone under her oversized boot made her fall face first into the snow. Solas appeared instantly beside her.

“I believe that if you close the rift, your Mark will stabilize,” Solas said gently. He laid a cool hand against her cheek to brush away the snow. Clara inhaled and climbed back to her feet. It felt like hours before they were on solid ground again. Soldiers were running around her as Clara stepped forward to see another rift gyrating midair. Beneath it, several soldiers were battling demons. Solas grabbed her shoulder.

“This rift has more energy than the others,” he said, “Perhaps because it is closer to the Breach. If you attempt to stabilize this rift, it will likely weaken the demons enough to give our soldiers a chance.”

Clara nodded in agreement and hurried forward, extending her arm to release the energy needed. With a flash, the rift was calm and the demons stood still. Clara swung her staff around, letting loose a barrage of fire and lightning. As she swung it through the air, she found herself next to a man with blonde hair, fighting expertly with sword and shield. The rift flashed again and the demons began to advance. She created a fiery circle at the demon’s base. Before she closed the spell, she glanced at the blonde man, who seemed to read her plan at a glance. He swung his sword in a broad arc that caught the demon in the chest. At once, Clara closed up her spell and the demon gave a scream as it exploded, scattering burnt viscera and cloth everywhere. The blonde man hurried away to help another group of soldiers while Clara turned her attention to the rift. It was indeed larger than the ones before, but she raised her arm again and felt the same thread of magic connect her to it. This time, instead of just an exchange of energy, it was as though some of the magic was drawn out of the mark on her hand. At once, she felt much of the pain vanish and she gave a sigh of relief.

“Sealed, as before,” Solas said as he, Varric and Cassandra came to stand beside her, “You are becoming quite proficient at this.”

“Let’s just hope it works on the big one,” Varric said. Cassandra nodded her head in agreement.

“Lady Cassandra.”

Clara turned around to see the blonde soldier, who she could now see was a higher ranking officer than she originally thought. He was dressed in fine armor. A red tunic hung down his broad back and his large sword hung at his hip. But most striking was his face. To say the man was handsome would be an understatement. He had a square jaw that hadn’t been shaved for a day or two. His blonde hair was wavy and as near as Clara could tell, he was well proportioned under the armor. But what caught her the most was the sound of his voice. There was an authority in his voice, but also Clara could sense a gentle and tender man underneath. 

“You managed to close the rift,” the man was saying to Cassandra, “Well done.”

Cassandra gave a sigh and looked at Clara. Clara swallowed at looked at her oversized boots.

“Do not congratulate me, Commander Rutherford,” Cassandra said, “This is the prisoner’s doing.”

Clara glanced up at the man and found herself looking into his eyes. Gold eyes.

“It’s you,” Clara whispered. Commander Rutherford blinked.

“You closed the rift, did you?” he asked. Clara nodded. She remained fixated on his eyes. His brows knitted together and Clara felt her cheeks get hot.

“We’ve lost a lot of people getting you here,” the commander said coldly, “I hope they’re right about you.”

Clara averted her gaze. 

“You’re not the only one hoping that,” she said softly.

“Yes, well, we’ll find out soon, won’t we?” he said, “The way to the temple is clear. I need to regroup my men behind the lines to hold back any approaching demons. Leliana will gather our remaining forces and meet you at the temple.”

“Understood,” Cassandra said, “Give us time, Commander.”

“Maker watch over you,” he said, “For all our sakes.”

Clara dared another glance up. The commander was helping an injured soldier walk. She watched his retreating forces and then turned towards the temple. Varric and Solas were standing at the edge of the plateau, looking at her curiously. She blushed guiltily and hurried over to them.

“Nice to see Curly hasn’t lost his charm,” Varric drawled.

“Who?” Clara asked.

“Commander Rutherford,” he replied, “The blonde you just met. His name is Cullen Rutherford. I know him from Kirkwall. A great man. A great Templar.”

Clara felt her heart clutch in her chest. The man was a Templar. That explained much of his cool reception toward her. She quickly brushed it aside to focus on the task at hand. She leaped from the ledge and landed unsteadily on the ground. Solas, Varric, and Cassandra followed. Slowly they walked through the remains of the Temple of Sacred Ashes. It was all Clara could do to keep from vomiting at the sight of so many bodies, in various stages of decomposition. But that was nothing compared to what was on the other side of the walls as they entered the innermost area of the temple.

“Maker’s breath,” Cassandra whispered.

“So much waste,” Solas said in a soft, sad voice.

“It’s unbelievable, isn’t it?” Varric said.

The bodies there were like statues, their faces and bodies frozen in their final moments of terror, pain, and something Clara couldn’t name.

“How could this have happened?” Clara said, her voice catching as they passed by the remains of a crouching figure. 

“There is no way to know,” Solas said, “Anymore than how it created your mark.”

“I promise that I don’t remember,” Clara said, “It’s like a blank page, or maybe an erased page. There are words there, but I can’t see them.”

“I know that feeling,” Varric said.

“I’m sure once we close the Breach, much will be revealed,” Cassandra said, “First, we must prepare to close it.”

As they neared the site where the Breach touched the ground, Clara gasped at the sight. The rift was the largest one she’d seen. And above it, the pierced sky boiled and rolled with magical energy.

“That’s a long way up,” Varric said.

“How do I get up there to close it?” Clara said aghast.

“You don’t,” Solas said, “This rift is the first and may be the key to stop the Breach from growing.”

“We need to find a way down there first,” Cassandra said.

“You’re here!” came the voice of Leliana as she ran to join them, “My men are getting into position.”

“We will find a way down,”

_ “Now is the hour of our victory.” _

Clara looked around in terror at the sound of the voice that seemed to come from everywhere. The voice was deep and cold, like something out of a half-remembered nightmare.

_ “Bring forth the sacrifice.” _

“Who are we hearing?” Cassandra whispered.

“At a guess,” Solas said, “The person responsible for the Breach.”

Clara continued to move forward, watching nervously every hidden corner. Near the far side of the temple, Clara came across something she had only read about in  _ The Tale of the Champion. _

“It's red lyrium,” Varric said. He sounded terrified, “Don’t touch it.”

“What’s red lyrium doing here?” Clara asked.

“Perhaps the explosion disturbed an ancient taig beneath the temple,” Solas said, more to himself than answering.

“It’s evil,” Varric hissed, “The stuff is not natural.”

Clara hurried away from it and found a staircase down to the floor.

_ “Someone help me!”  _

“That is Divine Justinia’s voice,” Cassandra said.

_ “What’s going on here?” _

Clara froze.

_ “Run while you can! Warn them!” _

“That’s your voice,” Cassandra said, “And Most Holy called to you.”

The sky swirled and Clara watched the scene unfold before her. A dark shadow held the Divine midair and Clara came in, staring around at the two. Justinia shouted at her and Clara looked up.

_ “We have been discovered,”  _ the shadowy shape said,  _ “Take the sacrifice. Kill the girl.” _

The scene faded and everyone turned to look at Clara.

“You were there,” Cassandra said, her voice both accusatory and desperate, “What happened? Who was that?”

“I don’t remember,” Clara said.

“We are seeing images the spirits have seen,” Solas said, “Through the Fade, we witness the emotions of events that transpired here.”

Leliana joined them.

“We are all in place,” she said, “What now?”

“This rift is closed but unstable,” Solas said, “If you reopen it, we should be able to seal it properly.”

“But what if something comes through?” Clara asked. Solas turned to look at her.

“It is likely that opening it will mean we will have to battle,” he said.

“That means demons,” Cassandra shouted, “Make ready!”

Clara looked around as the soldiers readied swords, shields, and arrows. She took a deep breath and raised her arm. Nothing happened.

“Don’t be afraid,” Solas said, “You are not alone and we will not abandon you.”

Clara nodded and tried again. This time, the energy in her hand crackled to life and poured into the Void. With a flash of energy, the rift reopened and out came the largest demon Clara had encountered so far.

“Now!” Cassandra shouted. At once, a slew of arrows was loosed and soldiers hurried forward to bring steel on the creature.

“Weaken the creature as you did before,” Solas called as he let a burst of frozen ice and wind explode around the demon.

Clara raised her arm to stabilize the rift but a blast of magic hit her in the back. She fell forward as the wraith loomed over her.

“No!” Clara screamed and raised a shield around herself in terror. The memory of her stepmother towering over her with a switch overcame her and she curled into a ball.

“Get away from her!” 

Clara looked around to see Leliana shooting arrows at the wraith. The thing dissolved and floated back into the Fade.

“Thank you,” Clara said as Leliana pulled her up.

“Are you hurt?” she asked. Clara shook her head.

“Let us finish this,” Leliana said. She pulled another arrow from her quiver and loosed it into the demon’s eye. It gave a roar of pain, clapping a massive, clawed hand over the bloody orifice. The demon collapsed, turned into smoke and energy, and drifted on the wind back into the Fade. The rift coalesced into a shimmering curtain.

“Now, quickly, do it!” Cassandra shouted.

Clara gave a shout, either to bolster her confidence or let loose her rage and poured as much energy as she could into the rift. She felt the same familiar pull, like a magnet between her and the Void. But she didn’t stop when she felt it rumble close. She kept going. Behind her, she could hear Varric shouting. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Solas’ eyes widen in anticipation. With another scream, Clara closed her fingers and slammed the door closed. The resulting shockwave sent her flying back into a piece of fallen pillar and the last thing she saw before losing consciousness was the burst of energy flying across the sky and the first faint glimmer of stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ends the first major act of my story. I hope you are enjoying. I'm going to try my best to keep a minimum amount of in-game dialogue.  
> You may have also noticed that I'm not jumping directly into the romance. That's because I like the slow-building romances, as well as the reverse-harem style, so expect a lot of the other main male, and possibly female characters to develop deep feelings (romantic or otherwise) for the main character. And as such, I hope I'll make everyone happy.  
> I think updates are going to occur mostly weekly to twice a week, depending on my schedule.
> 
> Please leave kudos and comments. They are greatly appreciated and will give me a good direction to pursue as I update this story. Thank you for reading again.


	4. The Threat Remains Part One - Writ in Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara awakens and learns she succeeded in stabilizing the Breach, although she didn't close it. She learns that she has been given the title of Herald of Andraste and that one of her councilors is Cullen Rutherford.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragon Age Inquisition, its characters, and story are the property of EA Games, Bioware, and their subsidiaries. All original characters are the property of the creator. This story is intended for entertainment and enjoyment purposes only and no profit is received from writing. Any and all similarities to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

The Threat Remains - Writ in Red

 

Clara felt as though her head was in a vice. Slowly, she opened her eyes. Above her, she didn’t see sky, or even the Breach. Instead, the wooden planks of a house roof. She was laying on a bed, not the stone rubble of the Temple of Sacred Ashes. And she was not dressed in the oversized coat and boots, although they were draped over the foot of the bed. She was dressed only in the rough leather garments she’d managed to find when she and her fellow mages had left the Circle. They were oversized as well, her small body much like her mother’s tiny stature. But she felt warm for the first time in weeks and snuggled under the blanket, turning to clutch the pillow in her arms. She smiled and gave a contented sigh. And that’s when she heard the crash. Clara bolted up to see a thin elf woman standing in the room.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you,” the elf said.

“You didn’t,” Clara quickly said, “Are you alright?”

The elf girl fell to her knees.

“I beg you forgiveness,” she said in a timid voice, “And your blessing. I’m only a servant.”

Clara opened her mouth to speak, but the elf girl seemed to be determined to leave.

“You’re back in Haven, my lady,” she said quickly, “They say you closed the Breach. It’s all anyone has talked about for three days.”

“I’ve been asleep for three days?” Clara asked in amazement.

“No, only a day,” the elf said, “You went to sleep late the night before last.”

“I don’t remember being awake,” Clara said.

“The elf mage, the one called Solas, he said you were in a dream state.”

Clara was familiar with it. She had done something similar when she had passed her Harrowing. For a day, she wandered about in her sleep, dreamless. She ate, read, even bathed, but it wasn’t until the following morning that she awoke fully.

“Lady Cassandra wanted to see you as soon as you awoke fully,” the elf said, “She said ‘at once’.”

“Where is Lady Cassandra?” Clara asked.

“She is in the Chantry, at the top of the hill,” the elf said, “‘At once’ she said.”

The elf girl ran off, leaving her dropped parcels. Clara quickly dressed in her coat and boots and hurried to the door. When she opened it, she stared in shock and amazement as soldiers outside stood at attention, saluting over their hearts. As she walked, she heard whispers from the residents. The same residents that had glared and called for her head were now praising her. At last, she arrived at the Chantry. Clara hesitated before opening the door. It had been years since she’d walked into a Chantry without the guard of Templars. And this wasn’t the small Circle chapel, but a proper Chantry for worship.

“Maker, give me strength,” Clara whispered in prayer as she swung open the massive doors.

The Chantry was rustic but impressive nonetheless. In fact, it was not unlike the Chantry in Ostwick. She remembered sitting with Philip at the front of the masses, the two giggling conspiratorially as they made plans for the day. The sisters had tried to teach them more civility but whatever Clara might have eventually learned ended with her induction in the Ostwick Circle. Now, as she walked down the hall, she could hear the whispered prayers for the dead and imprecations for their murderers. 

“You’re not serious, Seeker!” a voice from the end of the hall roared. Clara recognized it instantly as the Grand Chancellor she had met outside the temple. Roderick sounded furious and Clara did not look forward to seeing him again. Too much of him reminded her of her stepmother.

“You dare to question me?” Cassandra was shouting back.

“I will question anything and anyone that threatens to undo the balance the Most Holy sought to create.”

“How would you know anything that the Most Holy wished?” Leliana said, her voice cold.

Clara opened the door, trying to seem less timid that she felt.

“Arrest her!” Roderick shouted, “Chain her and take her to Val Royeaux for trial!”

“Disregard him and leave us,” Cassandra said. The soldiers nodded and left.

Clara looked at Roderick. He was pacing behind the desk, looking at Cassandra with daggers.

“You walk a dangerous line, Seeker,” he growled. Cassandra ignored him.

“The Breach is stable, but it’s threat is still of concern,” she said, “I cannot and will not ignore it.”

“I did all I could to close the Breach,” Clara said, “It nearly killed me.”

She wished she sounded less like a little child whining.

“Yet you live, when so many others died,” Roderick said, “How terribly convenient.”

“Watch your mouth, Chancellor,” Cassandra said, “She is of noble birth. And the Breach is not the only threat before us.”

Roderick looked at her. Leliana came forward from where she had been standing in the shadows. It made Clara jump.

“Someone is responsible for the explosion,” Leliana said, “It was someone Most Holy did not expect.”

Clara saw immediately where Leliana was going and, in spite of herself, she began to grin.

“Perhaps they died as well,” Leliana continued, “Or perhaps they have allies that yet live.”

Roderick went white to red in two seconds.

“You suspect me?” he said in disbelief.

“We suspect everyone,” Leliana said.

“But not the mage you have as prisoner?” Roderick accused.

“No, I saw and heard what happened at the temple,” Cassandra said, “Most Holy called out to her for help.”

“And her survival, her mark,” Roderick said, “All coincidence.”

“I have always believed that coincidence is when the Maker chooses to act anonymously.”

Roderick shot her a glare and Clara quickly ducked her head to hide her smile.

“It was providence,” Cassandra said, “The Maker sent her to us when things looked darkest.”

Clara pulled her head up again.

“Now wait a moment,” Clara said, “I’m a mage, I’m half elf. You really think that the Maker would send someone like me?”

“The Maker sends who He wills,” Cassandra said simply, “Who am I do say?”

Clara said nothing.

“The Breach remains, as does your Mark,” Leliana said, “You are the only hope we have of returning the world to normal.”

Clara looked at the mark. It was faintly glowing. For the first time, she noticed the shape it made; a sort of anchor. How fitting, considering it was the only thing that would hold the world in place.

“That is not for you to decide,” Roderick said.

The response was Cassandra slamming a large book on the wooden table. It made the room go still.

“Do you know what this is?” Cassandra asked, “It is a writ from the Divine that gives us authority to act.”

Clara looked at the massive tome. On the cover was an eye surrounded in flame and pierced by a sword. Roderick stared at it with a mixture of horror and respect.

“We pledge to close the Breach, find those responsible and restore order,” Cassandra continued, “And we will do it with or without anyone approval. As of this moment, I declare the Inquisition reborn.”

Roderick cast one more gaze around at them all and stormed out of the room.

“He took that well,” Leliana said. Cassandra rubbed her head, a trait Clara was beginning to recognize as a response to overwhelming emotions. Clara looked at them both.

“What happens now?” she asked. 

“Now we begin to do what it takes to restore order,” Cassandra said, “The Inquisition has not existed in ages, but we must be prepared to do what it takes.”

“We have no leader, no army, and no support from the Chantry,” Leliana said, “We are starting from the ground up.

Army? Leaders? Inquisition? It sounded like a holy war was what these two women wished to start.

“Am I free to go?” Clara asked.

“Yes, you are no longer a prisoner,” Leliana said, “But you should know that it is only here that you can be protected.”

“Many think you still guilty,” Cassandra said, “But many think you sent by Andraste.”

“Sent by Andraste?” Clara said.

“As her herald,” Leliana said, “You may have been saved to serve as her messenger here.”

Clara’s head began to spin.

“We must gather those you will need for success in this endeavor,” Cassandra said, “We have set aside a room here in the Chantry for your use.”

Clara nodded. Leliana extended a hand out and Clara walked back into the hallway. Leliana opened a door to the left of the council room and lead Clara inside. The room was comfortable.

“And now, I’m very sorry,” Leliana said, “But I must abandon you to enemies that even I dare not face.”

A woman, dressed in gold and purple, with ruffles and ribbons bustled in, followed by a group of people, carrying bolts of fabric, sewing kits and more Clara couldn’t even identify. The woman’s dark eyes looked Clara over and she shook her head.

“No, this simply will not do,” she said, “What on earth are you wearing?”

“Um, clothes I found in the Chantry,” Clara said, “It was all I could find that came even close to fitting me.”

“These clothes hardly present you in the best light,” the woman said, “Take them off.”

Clara jumped back as the group rushed in.

“Wait, what are you going to do?” Clara cried.

“I apologize, my lady,” the woman said, “Would you wish to remove them?”

“I wish to know what you are planning to do?” Clara said, once again using the voice of nobility.

“We simply wish to give you more...eh, appropriate clothing,” the woman said, “One more fitting the face of the Inquisition.”

Clara looked slightly pleased with the idea. She nodded and began to remove the oversized coat.

“I’ll leave you to it then,” Leliana said, “If, when you are finished, you could please join us outside the Chantry.”

Clara looked after Leliana, but she had disappeared as silent as the shadows. Clara spent the next few hours being measured and remeasured. The woman, whom Clara learned was named Josephine Montilyet, seemed as sure and certain of everything that was happening to Clara as though she navigated her way through such things routinely. 

“I suggest something comfortable, easy to move in,” Josephine said, “But it must also be fashionable and striking. She has the most lovely eyes, the clothes should emphasize that.

 

***

 

In the end, Clara was dressed in soft leather breeches dyed blue, a white tunic and a brown leather mail shirt that had been enchanted to repel magic, arrows, and daggers. She also wore a dark blue cape to give her added protection from the elements she might face in parts of Thedas. Her oversized boots were also exchanged for more fitted ones that felt as supple as stockings. But these were also enchanted to repel water, heat and offer some protection from ground spells. Her long red hair was braided in the fashionable style of Orlais. She even had been given the slightest amount of makeup to enhance her eyes. When Clara emerged from her quarters, she found Cullen Rutherford standing on the other side. He eyed her with something that looked like appreciation, but it was gone before Clara could be sure. He extended his arm towards the front doors and followed behind as she marched into the daylight.

Outside, the crowds had gathered to greet the Herald of Andraste and to see the rebirth of the legendary Inquisition, the predecessor of the Chantry, the Seekers and the Templar Order. As Clara came out, a large banner unfurled over the face of the Chantry. The same symbol had been stitched on to it. Clara wondered how many months Divine Justinia had been preparing for this moment. She felt a small rush of sadness that the woman had not lived to see it. Leliana was at the edge of the steps, attaching notes to two ravens that she promptly released.

“Those are on their way to Redcliffe Castle and the Storm Coast,” Cullen said, “We’re hoping to get in touch with Arl Teagan Guerrin. As for the Storm Coast, I’m not sure who Leliana is contacting there.”

Leliana returned and spoke with Josephine. Then both women approached Clara.

“We have some time,” Leliana said, “It will be a few days before I get any reply to my missives. You have the freedom to explore Haven. Get to know our people, let them get to know you.”

“I think you’re right,” Clara said, “I’ve been hidden away all my life. Now, I have the chance for so much.”

“May I ask you something?” Cassandra said, “You were at the Conclave. What did you plan to do about the rebellion?”

Clara thought carefully before answering.

“To be honest, I’m not sure,” she said at last, “I didn’t like the Circle I was in. But I liked even less being without it. I wanted a balance. A lot of the people I was with wanted the same.”

“Balance?” Leliana asked. Clara shrugged.

“It was a dream,” Clara said, “It doesn’t matter anymore. So, let’s go make friends.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not going to lie; I hate the outfit the Inquisitor character wears most of the time. I really don't like the brown outfit and most of the armor looks really weird to me. So one of the things I promised myself was that I would have fun with Clara's outfits in this story. Don't worry, she'll still have armor for the more intense fights, but I'll have fun with that too.
> 
> Also, it may seem a little slow to get things building between Clara and the other characters, but I think you'll find that it's worth the wait.


	5. Interlude: Knocking at Haven's Door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara begins to explore Haven and gets to know her new companions better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragon Age Inquisition, its characters, and story are the property of EA Games, Bioware, and their subsidiaries. All original characters are the property of the creator. This story is intended for entertainment and enjoyment purposes only and no profit is received from writing. Any and all similarities to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Interlude - Knocking at Haven’s Door

Clara spent the morning getting to know the people of Haven. They were an interesting collection of people; farmers, soldiers, merchants, clerics, mages, and Templars. There were elves, humans, and dwarves.

“So many different races, different backgrounds,” Clara thought, “But all connected by the life of Divine Justinia.”

Clara hadn’t been back to the Temple of Sacred Ashes. She saw no reason to. At first, she’d wanted to search the area to find word of her father and brother. But Cassandra had shaken her head sadly.

“We have recovered all recognizable bodies from the area,” she said, “Whatever remains is either too damaged or too unrecognizable.”

Clara had bowed her head in regret.

“If you need to grieve, please feel free to,” Cassandra said.

Clara shook her head.

“I lost my brother at a very young age,” Cassandra said, “It still hurts, even after all this time. I do not pretend to understand all you feel, but know that if you wish to talk, I am willing to listen.”

Clara smiled and set about exploring Haven. It wasn’t as though she didn’t want to grieve for her family. But she had no way of knowing that they were truly gone. Until she had proof or closure, she’d do what she had to do. 

“Lady Herald.” Clara looked up and saw she was outside the apothecary. Solas, the elf mage was watching her closely. He had changed into more relaxed woolens. And she noticed, for the first time, that his feet were nearly bare. Yet he stood in the snow as though it were nothing.

“Hello, Solas,” Clara said, “I see you’ve made yourself comfortable.”

“As comfortable as an apostate can be when surrounded by Templars,” Solas said, “And you? The Herald of Andraste? A blessed hero who has come to save us all.”

“You make me sound much more dashing than I feel,” Clara said, “Like I should be on a white steed?”

“I would have suggested a griffon,” Solas said with a small smile, “But, alas, they are extinct.”

He looked off into the distance.

“I have walked the Fade numerous times and seen the rise and fall of many kingdoms, many heroes, and many tyrants,” Solas said distantly, “I am curious what kind of hero you will be.”

“I hope the good kind,” Clara said, “But, what you said before, ‘walking the Fade.’ What exactly do you mean?”

“Just that,” Solas said, “I have visited ruins, battlefields, and ancient castles. I go to sleep to see their history. The memories the spirits share can offer insight into the people and powers long since forgotten.”

“You go to sleep in battlefields?” Clara asked, “Isn’t that dangerous?”

“If you put up spells and wards, there is little concern,” Solas said. He looked back with a grin.

“And the giant spiders are usually content to live and let live if you leave food out.”

Clara shuddered at the idea. Solas must have seen it because he chuckled. 

“It’s a rare gift to see a half-elven girl carry so much of the look,” Solas said, “Most of the blood is overpowered by the human blood.”

“I know so little about my elf half,” Clara said, “I’ve never given it much thought. But now, I guess I am starting to wonder about that part of my life.”

“I would be happy to share what I know with you, if you so wish,” Solas said, “The elven people are an ancient one and there is much to learn.”

“I’d like that,” Clara said, “But I should probably go.”

“Of course,” Solas said, “Dareth shiral.”

“What does that mean?” Clara asked.

“It means ‘safe journey’,” Solas said, “And you are ‘da’len.” It means ‘little one’.”

Clara smiled at the name. Solas returned the smile. Then he entered the house behind him and closed the door. Clara wandered about the village awhile. She helped Adan, the alchemist turned healer find some missing notes to create rejuvenation potions. She helped locate a logging stand for Thren, the requisitions officer. Then, she took the request to Harritt, the blacksmith. Harritt was a blunt man, but kind. After taking the request, he looked Clara over thoroughly. 

“How is the new gear working for you?” he asked.

“It’s odd,” Clara said, “I’ve never worn anything like it before. But it’s also comfortable and easy to move in.”

“Good,” Harritt said, “If anything feels off, be sure to come to me. I’ll help you adjust it.”

“Thank you,” Clara said. Harritt nodded and turned back to his work.

“Lady Trevelyan.”

Cassandra came running up to her.

“The Council has heard from Redcliffe,” she said.

“That was quick,” Clara said.

“It is not from the arl,” Cassandra said, “Come with me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have planned to make a lot of these little interludes to break up the main storyline. I'm really drawn to the characters in Inquisition and I wanted to take time to explore more of their interaction between the Inquisitor and the companions. As I said before, I think Clara Trevelyan is going to be a very different type of Inquisitor. I hope you've really been enjoying her.


	6. The Threat Remains Part Two - Weep you no more, sad fountains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara travels to the Hinterlands in her first real mission for the Inquisition. Upon meeting Mother Giselle, Clara must prepare for the next part of her duty as the Herald of Andraste.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragon Age Inquisition, its characters, and story are the property of EA Games, Bioware, and their subsidiaries. All original characters are the property of the creator. This story is intended for entertainment and enjoyment purposes only and no profit is received from writing. Any and all similarities to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

The Threat Remains Part 2 - Weep you no more, sad fountains

 

Clara and Cassandra walked back up the path. Outside the Chantry, mages and templars were milling about. The tension was thick and Clara was very grateful to get inside the Chantry. As she walked down the hall, she looked down at her hand. It was faintly glowing, much like when she would hold fireflies in her hand.

“Does it still bother you?” Cassandra asked.

“No, it doesn’t hurt,” Clara said, “But I’ll be glad when it’s gone.”

“I do not blame you,” Cassandra said, “It must be a heavy burden. But I believe that it is a gift from the Maker. Solas believes that another attempt to close the breach will be successful.”

“I’m not sure I could attempt it again,” Clara said.

“Nor should you,” Cassandra said, “That is why we believe that if we give the Mark more power, it will seal the Breach.”

“Oh, of course,” Clara said, “What harm could there be in powering up something we have no knowledge of.”

Cassandra laughed.

“Hold onto that sense of humor,” she said. 

In the council room, Josephine, Leliana, and Cullen were gathered around the table. A large map had been rolled out over the table and several markers were placed around it. Clara recognized various places on the map; Redcliffe, Orlais, and across the Waking Sea, Kirkwall.

“Let me formally introduce you to your advisors,” Cassandra said, “I’m sure you’ve met Commander Cullen Rutherford.”

“We’ve met a few times since the battlefield,” Cullen said, “May I say I’m pleased you survived.”

And then he smiled and Clara felt her heart flutter in her ribcage. His smile was warm, tender, and full of respect. And what was striking most was that it came from a Templar.

“This is Josephine Montilyet, our ambassador,” Cassandra said.

“I am pleased to meet you again,” Josephine said, “I sincerely hope that the new accouterments are satisfactory?”

“My clothes?” Clara said, “Oh yes, they’re very nice.”

“And you’ve met Leliana,” Cassandra said, “She serves as our spymaster.”

“Tactfully put, Cassandra,” Leliana said, “But yes, that is the crux of my duties. I called to inform you that we have received word from Redcliffe. A woman in the Hinterlands, outside Redcliffe, has requested a meeting with you. She is a revered cleric named Mother Giselle.”

“A cleric?” Clara said, “Could it be a trap?”

Cassandra gave her a smile. 

“You are thinking like a well-versed player in the Game,” Leliana said, “But no, Mother Giselle seems genuinely interested in avoiding hostilities.”

“The other reason we wished to meet with you is to discuss what steps we may begin to take to seal the Breach,” Josephine said.

“If we reach out to the rebel mages,” Leliana said, “Their magic could give the mark the power it needs.”

“And I still feel the Templars could be of more use,” Cullen said, “Their skills to weaken magic might allow the Mark to overpower it.”

“We need power, Commander,” Cassandra said, “The mages are the more sure route.”

“I was a Templar,” Cullen said, “I know what they’re capable of.”

Clara looked at him. Was? Did that mean he might have a different attitude about mages?

“I’ll go to Redcliffe and meet with Mother Giselle,” Clara said, “Hopefully she’ll have some insights into the Chantry’s goals now.”

“You should look for other ways to spread out influence while there,” Cullen said, “As the Herald of Andraste, you have begun to command a certain amount of respect.”

“Yes, about this ‘herald’ business,” Clara said, “Where did this come from?”

“Those who were at the Temple saw you emerge from the Fade,” Cassandra said, “A woman was behind you. Many believe it Andraste herself.”

“So they think somehow that I am blessed by Andraste and that I am, what, bringing the power of the Maker down to Thedas?” Clara said in disbelief.

“There is no way to know for sure,” Josephine said, “Many people are torn. Some hold you as holy yourself. Others feel you will bring about another Blight.”

“I know it’s a lot to take in,” Cullen said, “What do you feel about the whole matter?”

“I secure enough in my faith to say I don’t know,” Clara said, “And the only reason I’m here at all is because of you.”

Cullen raised his brows in surprise.

“I don’t know who saved me from the Fade,” Clara said, “But I do know that I have you to thank for getting me out of the Temple.”

Cullen gave a nervous cough and rubbed the back of his neck. Clara smiled.

“I will go with the Herald,” Cassandra said, “We shouldn’t rely on her alone to reach out to people.”

“Take any others you feel may help as well,” Leliana said.

With that, the Council session ended. Clara walked over to Cullen.

“Commander Rutherford, I wanted to thank you properly for your aide,” Clara said, trying to be as formal as possible. Cullen smiled down at her. 

“It was my great pleasure, my lady,” he said. Standing beside him, she felt even more like a child. Cullen stood at least a foot taller than she, smiling down at her in a brotherly way. It made her feel safe, but it also left her feeling something else. Something she couldn’t quite name.

Clara hurried down the path to the house where Solas was staying. Cassandra had gone to fetch Varric; Clara had felt his assistance, and his crossbow would be useful in the Hinterlands.

“Solas!” Clara called. There was a shuffling of blankets inside and the sound of bare feet padding to the door. When Solas appeared, he looked out at her sleepily.

“What can I do for you?” he said.

“Feel up to a trip to the Hinterlands?” Clara said. Solas’ eyes opened wider and he raised a brow.

 

***

 

The Hinterlands wasn’t exactly a remote part of Ferelden, but it was sparsely populated. The majority of people who lived there were farmers. Closer to Redcliffe, there were fishermen and merchants. Now, it had been overrun by refugees escaping from the war between the Templars and mages. Clara looked out over the landscape from the forward camp she had set up with her companions. It was early yet and the fog had not lifted from the valley.

“Your Worship?”

Clara looked around and saw a dwarf coming up the hill.

“Are you Scout Harding?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” the dwarf said cheerfully.

“Okay, I don’t mind ‘herald,” Clara said with a smile, “I can even deal with ‘ma’am’, but no way you’re calling me ‘worship’.”

“Fair enough,” Harding said giggling, “I thought I’d give you the particulars of what you’re going to be running into.”

“Let me have it,” Clara said. She sat down at the campfire where a pot of warm porridge was cooking. Ale had been warmed already and Clara had been nursing a mug since she woke up an hour before dawn. 

“Would you like some breakfast?” Clara asked.

“Oh, yes, thank you, your Wors...uh, I mean, ma’am,” Harding said.

“So, what do I have to look forward to in the lovely Hinterlands?” Clara asked as Harding began spooning porridge into a bowl.

“Well, apart from what you can already see,” Harding said, “We haven’t been able to reach anyone in the Castle. And the war between the Templars and mages has made it impossible for us to get to Redcliffe Farms. Master Dennet has the best horses. We wanted to petition him to lend the Inquisition some horses. We have no idea if he’s even alive.”

“Templar-Mage war, Master Dennet, quiet castle,” Clara listed, “Anything else?”

“You can get more information from Commander Vale,” Harding said, “He’s just outside the crossroads.”

Harding finished her porridge and had a quick gulp of ale.

“I need to get moving again,” Harding said, “Be careful out there, ma’am.”

Clara nodded. Harding moved off and Clara heard the others begin to stir in their tents. An hour later, Clara was moving down the hillside into the collection of houses. Solas gave an unrestrained yawn.

“Everything okay there, Chuckles?’ Varric asked, “Need a little pick-me-up? Shit, I wish I could get the Inquisition to start supplying us with coffee.”

“It is sometimes harder to shake the dreams from my mind,” Solas said, “But I am fine, Master Tethras.”

“Just so long as you don’t need me and Bianca here to protect you too,” Varric said.

“Wait, you named your crossbow ‘Bianca’?” Clara asked.

“We’ve been through a lot together,” Varric said, “She’s my best girl. And she’ll be a lot of help to you, Robin.”

Clara looked at him in surprise. Varric looked at her expectantly.

“I get a nickname too?” she asked, trying to sound as though it wasn’t as exciting as she felt.

“I nickname everybody,” Varric said, “I’ll be sure to give you the list later on. Right now, we’ve got a bit more to worry about.”

 

***

 

Clara gasped heavily as the last templar fell. She felt somewhat guilty for killing him, but it was self-defense. And, as Cassandra said, they needed to be stopped by any means necessary.

“Are you well?” Solas asked. Clara nodded.

“You are a poor fighter,” Solas said simply. Clara scowled.

“The Circle in Ostwick wasn’t exactly focused on training mages to fight,” she said, “I think I held my own pretty well.”

“Only barely,” Solas said, “Perhaps you should speak to Commander Cullen about training for battle.”

“He’s a Templar,” Clara said.

“He has left the order, I understand,” Solas replied.

“Former or not, he won’t want to train a mage to fight.”

Solas said no more. Instead, he bent down to search through the pockets of the fallen templars.

“What are you doing?” Clara said in shock, “Are you stealing from them?”

“They have no need of it,” Solas said. He stood up to show several gold coins, a few enchanted rings, and a few small gems.

“Nice,” Varric said as he came over to look. He had managed to find a bow and full quiver of arrows, as well as some jewelry. 

Clara shook her head. But she knew they were right. To the victors go the spoils and all that. But there was nothing she saw that she needed. Until they walked past the fallen mages. The stave was made from black elm and wrapped with leather. A decorative steel arrow adorned the top of the staff. It was a fire stave and a very rare one. Clara bent to touch it and felt its power flow through her like water.

“Take it,” Cassandra said, “You need one that connects with you.”

Clara lay the borrowed stave from the temple beside the fallen mage and picked up the rare one. She strapped it to her back and looked at the others.

“Where to now?” Clara asked. 

“Mother Giselle is tending to the wounded,” Cassandra said, pointing to the cleric who was moving among the wounded like a summer breeze. Clara walked forward and overheard the cleric speaking softly to the Inquisition soldier.

“Hush dear boy, let the mages help you,” she said, her Orlesian accent soft and gentle.

Clara watched as the soldier lay down, falling asleep as the mages healed him.

“Are you Mother Giselle?” Clara asked. The woman looked up and nodded.

“And you are the one they called “Herald of Andraste,” Mother Giselle said.

“Not by choice,” Clara said, “But I was told you wanted to speak to me.”

Mother Giselle nodded her head and Clara followed her to the edge of the circle of wounded.

“I have heard about the Chantry’s denouncement,” she said, “And you should know that those who have voiced such dissent are grandstanding, making a play to be named the next Divine.”

“What about you?” Clara asked, “What do you think?”

“I believe that you have been touched by something powerful,” Mother Giselle said, “Whether that is the hand of the Maker or something else, I do not know.”

“What should I do about the Chantry?” Clara asked.

“Go to Val Royeaux and speak with them,” Mother Giselle said, “You don’t need to convince them all, just make them doubt.”

“Doubt?” Clara said.

“Faith is made stronger by facing doubt,” Mother Giselle said, “The Chantry has blinders on now. How can we grow beyond this if we refuse to heal?”

Clara nodded, though she barely understood.

“I will go to Haven,” Mother Giselle said, “And give Sister Leliana names of those in the Chantry who would be willing to meet.”

Mother Giselle walked down the ridge. Clara watched after her.

“A wise woman,” Cassandra said, “Her advice is sound. Will you heed it?”

Clara frowned thoughtfully. Then she looked at Solas and Varric.

“What do you two think?” she asked.

“I advise to keep as much distance between you and the Chantry as possible,” Solas said, “They will not likely see you as anything but a rebellious mage, as so many are now.”

“Varric?” Clara asked.

“I say go,” Varric said, “The Chantry needs to see you, if for no other reason, to prove you’re not a demon or Maker knows what else.”

Clara nodded.

“Send word back to Haven,” she said, “Tell them to prepare what is needed for me to go to Val Royeaux.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had a lot more time to update, although I'm not very happy about the circumstances behind it; I'm currently on leave from work and the reasons are really painful to think about. Still, I enjoy getting to write this story. But please send positive thoughts my way to have patience; as much as I like getting to write so much, I'd like to be back at work.
> 
> Are you enjoying this story? I like see how many hits I get, but I'd really like to hear from you too. Comments are really appreciated.


	7. Interlude: When Soft Voices Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara shows real compassion and kindness to the people of the Hinterlands and lets her companions see what kind of person she is. And she also gets to know her Commander better as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragon Age Inquisition, its characters, and story are the property of EA Games, Bioware, and their subsidiaries. All original characters are the property of the creator. This story is intended for entertainment and enjoyment purposes only and no profit is received from writing. Any and all similarities to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Interlude - When Soft Voices Die

 

Clara spent the next week in the Hinterlands, helping Vale and his forces with refugees. They also helped to drive back most of the rebel templars and mages who were fighting, which allowed them to finally reach Horsemaster Dennet. Dennet was blunt but helpful. He also seemed very keen to help Clara, who turned about to be the same age as his daughter. Most of the week was spent at Redcliffe Farms forward camp, where Master Dennet and Seanna taught her to ride. Clara kept in touch with the council, particularly Cullen. Not that she was seeking out Cullen specifically, but most of her work in the Hinterlands had to do with his forces. From the letters and reports exchanged, she began to see a dedicated and authoritative figure who had the respect and loyalty of his men. He also had a deep faith in the Maker that Clara appreciated when she began to feel lonely and lost. Varric, Solas, and Cassandra were nice company, but, with the exception of Varric, they were too grim. Varric made her smile, but he also kept to himself when Cassandra was around.

After a week, Clara said goodbye to the people of the Crossroads. The trip back to Haven was not nearly as rough as ride as when she left. Clara figured that was because of the beautiful Ferelden Forder she had been given to replace the ancient plow horse she first rode. As she vaulted streams, she laughed joyously at the freedom that she finally seemed to be able to enjoy.

“You ride well, Lady Trevelyan,” Cassandra said, “You learned fast.”

“I feel like I could fly,” Clara said. Cassandra smiled at her. 

“The last week,” she said, “It has done you good.” Clara slowed down.

“What do you mean?”

“You have color in your face,” Cassandra said, “You were far too pale when we first met. And you have gained some weight.”

Clara looked at herself nervously. Cassandra gave a small laugh.

“It’s nothing to be self-conscious about,” she said, “Men like women with a little meat.”

“Why would I care about that?” Clara said, hoping her blush was not obvious.

“You’re a young woman,” Cassandra said, “I would be more surprised if you didn’t care.”

They rode together in companionable silence for a time. The spires of the Chantry in Haven were just visible in the sunlight when Cassandra spoke again.

“I wonder if you know much of your family tree,” Cassandra said, “Did you know that your family and my family have some connected branches?”

Clara shook her head and smiled.

“So, we’re, what, cousins?” she asked.

“I doubt we’re even that closely related,” Cassandra said, “But it does give me a feeling of kinship.”

“My stepmother is from Nevarra,” Clara said, “I have no idea of what her name was before she married my father, but I know that she had some connection to the royal house.”

“As many noble houses do in Nevarra,” Cassandra said, “It means little anymore.”

Clara dismounted and the stablehands took the horses to the stables. She opened the massive doors and was met with the sound of fighting rising up from in front of the Chantry. Clara and Cassandra raced up the path to see Templars and mages staring each other down.

“Your kind killed the Divine,” a Templar was saying. He reached to pull his sword and the mage’s stave began to glow.

“That’s enough!”

Clara said the words the same time as Cullen, who had burst from the chantry and separated the two.

“Knight-Captain,” the Templar said.

“That is not my title,” Cullen said, “There are no titles here. We all serve the Maker. We are part of the Inquisition now.”

Clara saw the ghost of an old pain flash across Cullen’s face as the crowd dispersed.

“And what does that mean, exactly?” Chancellor Roderick appeared from the back of the crowd. The crowd stopped and watched.

“So here’s the reason for the feuding,” Cullen said, “Back so soon, Chancellor?

“I’m simply curious as to how this Inquisition and it’s so-called ‘herald’ intend to bring about this order you so desperately preach,” Roderick said, casting a sneer at Clara.

“Of course you are,” Cullen muttered quietly. Then he looked up at the watching crowd.

“Back to your duties, all of you,” he commanded. Clara looked at Cassandra.

“I must report to the Council,” she said, “I will let you know when we are ready for you.”

Clara nodded and then walked over to Cullen, listening to the conversation between Roderick and himself.

“I simply believe that it would be better for all of you to renounce this asinine plan and wait for a new Divine to guide us,” Roderick said.

“We have no time to wait,” Cullen said, “If we do not act now, there will be no Chantry to lead. Or even a Thedas.”

“But do you know anything about your ‘herald’,” Roderick said, “Karl Trevelyan was a pious man and deeply respected by the Chantry and the nobility. And yet, even for all his piety, he fell from grace at the hands of an elf whore.”

Clara winced visibly. Cullen noticed but said nothing. Clara took a deep breath.

“The Maker can use anyone,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady, “My father always believed that the Maker would often seek out the more broken souls to serve His will.”

“Do not speak about things you have no right, mage,” Roderick snarled. Clara narrowed her eyes.

“Tell me again why Chancellor Roderick is still here?” she asked Cullen. Cullen glowered at the man.

“He’s toothless,” he said, “All loud talk.”

“I am here on behalf of the Chantry to try and talk some sense into the heads of this rebellion,” Roderick said, adopting the cleric's voice Clara knew all too well.

“Perhaps if the leaders of templars and mages had listened in the beginning, the Conclave wouldn’t have been necessary,” Clara said.

“So a rebellion, with a murderer as “herald of Andraste,” is better?” Roderick asked.

Clara’s face when red and a burning sensation filled her chest.

“I’m not a murderer,” she said. Roderick smiled and Clara knew she had stepped into his trap.

“Then let us go to Val Royeaux and have a trial,” he said soothingly, “We only want justice.”

Cullen pulled Clara back and stepped between her and Roderick.

“The Herald has work to do,” Cullen said. He turned back to look at her.

“They’ll be ready for you in the council room,” he said, “I’ll join you directly.”

Clara looked wide-eyed at the blonde man and nodded. As she turned away, she heard Roderick mutter the word ‘bastard.’ She stops but refuses to turn around as to do so would allow him, and Commander Cullen to see her weep at the familiar unloved title. A title that her stepmother had enjoyed throwing around whenever she could. 

“I will say this only once, Chancellor,” Cullen said, his voice cold, “You will not use that word around the Herald or anyone else in this camp. Do you hear me?”

Clara could not hear his response, but after a moment, Roderick stormed past her. His face was stony, but it was also very pale. Clara pushed down her own smile of triumph as she went into the Chantry, nearly bumping into an armor-clad young man.

“Excuse me,” they said at the same time. Then they both smiled.

“Pardon me, I’ve got a message from my commander and I can’t seem to find anyone.

“I can take it,” Clara said, “Who is it from?”

“I’m Cremisius Aclassi,” the young man said, “I’m here on behalf of our company commander, Iron Bull. He’s offering our company, the Bull’s Chargers, to the Inquisition.”

“Oh!” Clara said in surprise. A mercenary company was offering its services? Was that normal?”

“We’re worth the expense if that’s what you’re worried about?” Aclassi said.

“No, I’m just,” Clara stammered, “I’m sure we’ll be glad to have you. I’m on my way to the war council now. I’ll let them know.”

“We’re in the Storm Coast,” Aclassi said, “If you want to get an idea of our company, and our commander, come see us in action there.”

Clara nodded and watched as the young man walked back out into the village. In the council room, Josephine and Leliana were speaking quietly while Cassandra stared at the map thoughtfully.

“Lady Trevelyan,” Josephine said, “We were just about to send for you. How did you fare in the Hinterlands.”

She stopped and looked at Clara closely.

“Are you quite alright?” she asked. Clara nodded.

“Just disturbed by the tension outside,” she replied, “What can we expect in Val Royeaux?”

Cullen came in and Clara looked at him expectantly. He shrugged and stood behind the war table.

“We were just talking about the upcoming meeting with the Chantry,” Leliana said, “The names Mother Giselle passed along have been contacted and they are willing to meet. However, you should know that they have summoned the Templars to the city to protect them.”

“I wondered where the rest of the Templars were in the Hinterlands,” Clara said, “What do they think I’ll do? Turn them all into sloth demons?”

Cullen gave a snort of laughter and Clara grinned. 

“They do not know anything that you are capable of,” Leliana said, “And that distresses them.”

“You don’t think they’d try anything to harm the Herald, do you?” Cullen asked.

“I will go with her,” Cassandra said. Clara was relieved to hear Cassandra’s willingness to travel to this meeting. But, despite her outward bravado, she was terrified to go. It seemed that to do so would confirm one of two things. That she was a murderer and she would be captured and executed as a scapegoat for the Conclave. Or that she had been chosen by Andraste as her herald and that the Inquisition was divinely sanctioned. Clara couldn’t decide which was more intimidating.

“Give us time to make preparations,” Cassandra said, “We can leave at first light.”

Clara nodded. Then she looked at Cullen.

“Commander Cullen,” she said softly, “Would you be willing to come along?”

Cullen blinked in surprise but bowed his head to Clara.

“I’m afraid not,” he said, “I have much to do with the training of our forces here.”

Josephine and Leliana exchanged glances and smiled. Clara nodded quickly and said nothing more. They discussed in depth whether or not to enlist the help of the mercenary group, the Bull’s Chargers.

“It’s worth a look,” Leliana said, “Mercenaries are loyal only to their coin. I think we’ll stand a good chance of keeping them in our employ.”

“After I’m done in Val Royeaux, I’ll go to the Storm Coast,” Clara said.

“Then we are done for the day,” Cullen said, “Lady Herald, I wonder if you might accompany me to the training grounds.”

Clara nodded and tried to ignore the pleased stares of the other women. As she walked alongside Cullen, she found herself becoming breathless as she hurried to keep up. Cullen finally seemed to realize his quick stride and slowed to a more leisurely one.

“When you go to meet with the Chantry,” Cullen said, “Please be very careful. The Chantry has the ability to stoke public opinion until it can blaze out of control. Don’t go anywhere by yourself. Please promise me.”

Clara looked up at him as he stopped. His golden eyes were looking at her with a mixture of protectiveness and authority. It reminded her of a lion.

“I promise,” Clara said, “Of course I won’t go anywhere without the others. I’d be too scared to.”

“Good,” Cullen said, “Not that being afraid is good. That is, I...um…” Cullen trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. Clara smiled.

“Being afraid is not the same as being cautious,” Clara said, “And I’ve been cautious ever since I entered the Circle.”

Cullen looked sadly at her but smiled as they walked quietly together to the training grounds.

“By the way, thank you,” Clara said, “For what you said to Chancellor Roderick. I know it’s a fact of nature about what I am, but I still am grateful.”

“It isn’t a word I am fond of either, fact or no,” Cullen said, “And certainly not one to be used around a lady.”

Clara smiled and felt her cheeks redden. Cullen also seemed to have gone slightly red. He cleared his throat.

“If you have need of me,” Cullen said, “I’ll be here training our recruits.”

Clara nodded and watched him as he walked to the soldiers sparring with each other. Clara noticed Cassandra training with the straw targets. She swung the sword over and over, catching the targets across the chest fatally.

“You’re amazing,” Clara said at last. Cassandra looked up.

“Thank you,” she said, “I’ve worked hard to become so, but I am not certain it will be enough.”

“What do you mean?” Clara asked.

“What do you know of the training a soldier of the Chantry faces?” she asked.

Clara shook her head and shrugged slightly.

“We devote ourselves to the Maker and to His purpose,” Cassandra said, “Or at least what we guess is His purpose. The Chantry has always been a source of peace and guidance, but now I do not believe they have the answers as they preach.”

“What do you believe?” Clara asked.

“I believe that action is required,” Cassandra said, “The Breach is still in the sky, rifts are still open across Thedas and even in Orlais. And all the Chantry seems to be focused on is electing a new Divine.”

“So we go to Val Royeaux and get them to see reason,” Clara said, “Surely they aren’t above reason.”

Cassandra gave a bitter laugh and turned back to the targets.

“May I ask you,” Cassandra said, “Do you believe in the Maker?”

“Yes,” Clara said at once, “At least, I believe He’s there. I don’t know as much as you or Cullen does, I’m sure.”

“It is enough,” Cassandra said, “In many ways, your faith is one I envy. It is so innocent and trusting.”

Cassandra said nothing more but when back to swinging at the targets. Clara, uncertain of her meaning, walked back into the village. As she climbed toward the Chantry, she caught a scent she knew well but had not smelled in almost a year. She followed it to a campfire where Varric Tethras was turning a spit over the flames.

“How on earth did you find chicken here?” she asked. Varric laughed.

“I have my sources,” he said, “A friend of mine just brought it in. Fresh from the Free Marches. Care to join me?

“Oh, no,” Clara said, “I wouldn’t want to impose.” She knew that it was only out of politeness that people would invite her to meals. They truly didn’t expect a mage and a bastard to really accept.

“If it was an imposition, I wouldn’t have offered,” Varric said with a smile, “Come sit down. It must be a long time since you’ve had a decent meal.”

Clara’s stomach gave a loud grumble before she couldn’t respond. They both laughed and five minutes later, Clara was sitting at the campfire with a plate full of chicken, a small loaf of bread, and a mug of sweet wine. Clara took a small bite, but soon her hunger overtook her manners and she ate quickly. Varric did not seem to mind as he ate his own meal.

“So,” Varric said as Clara ate, “Now that Cassandra is out of earshot, how are you holding up?”

Clara looked at him in surprise. Varric shrugged.

“You go from Chantry enemy number one to Herald of Andraste in a matter of hours,” he said, “Most people would spread that out over more than one day.”

Clara finished chewing before she responded, giving her time to think. She decided that she would trust Varric and allow her walls down around him.

“To be honest, I’m still trying to take it all in,” she said, “I saw so many dead bodies on that mountain, to be unable to help them all and to have this strange magic carved into my hand, I’m not sure how to respond.”

“No normal person could do what you did,” Varric said, “Which tells me that you’re either touched by the Maker or you’ve got the worst luck imaginable.”

“Those are my only options?” Clara asked. 

“You survived the explosion at the Temple, survived the Fade,” Varric listed off, “Survived Cassandra, which is amazing alone, and you closed the Breach.”

“When you say it like that, it doesn’t sound nearly as amazing,” Clara said, “But to live through it is not nearly so cut and dry.”

The wine was sweet, but it was strong and Clara was starting to feel sleepy. She sat close to the fire, watching the flames dance. Varric put a hand on her shoulder. She looked up to see him smiling at her warmly.

“It isn’t cut and dry,” Varric said, “It’s a damn miracle. And we need more of those right now.”

Clara laughed and they spent the rest of the evening talking about the Free Marches, comparing places and people they knew. The sweet wine continued to send Clara drifting when a question pulled her back sharply to the present.

“Curly’s looking pretty good these days,” Varric said, “Much better than the last time I saw him.”

“You said you knew Cullen?” Clara asked, perhaps a bit too quickly. Varric grinned at her.

“Not well,” Varric said, “He was the knight-captain at the Kirkwall Circle. When the Chantry exploded and the Circles began to revolt, Cullen was in Kirkwall trying to protect people. He helped the Champion of Kirkwall to stop Knight-Commander Meredith from torturing and killing mages. I lost track of him until Cassandra brought me here. He’s a good man and very compassionate. I never understood why he was so willing to follow along with Meredith. A man so devoted to protecting others and doing good.”

Varric looked down as Clara gave a small snore. He shook his head and pulled a blanket from his bag to drape over her. He sat with her by the fire until Cullen came back from the training grounds that evening. Varric quickly flagged him down and pointed to Clara’s sleeping figure. Cullen scooped her up in his arms and carried her back to her room in the Chantry.

“This story may not end well for heroes,” Varric said thoughtfully, “I’ve written too many tragedies. But this is one time I really hope that I’m wrong.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters this week? Wow, sometimes insomnia has its perks. But hey, I'm progressing well. I also want to get further into the game I'm playing as well. That's the plan this weekend; after 9-hour work shifts at the restaurant. *sigh* Adulthood is no fun.


	8. The Threat Remains Part Three - The Lady is a Tramp

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragon Age Inquisition, its characters, and story are the property of EA Games, Bioware, and their subsidiaries. All original characters are the property of the creator. This story is intended for entertainment and enjoyment purposes only and no profit is received from writing. Any and all similarities to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

The Threat Remains Part 3 - The Lady is a Tramp

 

At first light, Clara was seated on her horse between Solas and Cassandra. The trip was a relatively quiet one, so Clara had time to read along the way.

“What are you reading?” Varric asked. Clara blushed.

“Oh, just rereading  Hard in Hightown ,” Clara said, “I wanted to get a new perspective now that I’ve met the author.”

“Have you read others of Varric’s works?” Cassandra asked.

“Just about everything, I guess,” Clara said, “The Circle didn’t keep a lot of fiction books in the library. It was mostly magical tomes and alchemy notes. But my brother Philip smuggled a few things in for me.”

“Personal items managed to get in the circle?” Solas asked in surprise.

“Through the laundry,” Clara said, “When bedclothes or robes went out to be washed, Philip would arrange a drop with the person in town doing the work. Then, it was just a matter of making sure the books went in the right bundle for me.”

“That was very dangerous,” Cassandra said, “Suppose you or he had been caught.”

“We always worried about that,” Clara said, “But Philip knew I loved to read and wanted me to have something other than dusty old texts for the rest of my life.”

Clara drifted off sadly, thinking about her missing brother. The days following had turned up no other survivors from the temple. Even the missing scouting party had been found, huddled in a cave up in the mountain. But they had seen no one else. But Clara still could not bring herself to admit that her family was gone. She had never been close to her father. His piety had always been a wedge between them since she was the constant reminder of his failure. But he had done much to make the time spent with her stepmother more bearable. It was Philip that she truly longed to see.

“You were close to your brother,” Solas said. It wasn’t a question, but an observation. Clara nodded.

“I’ll always be grateful that he didn’t fear me being a mage,” Clara said, “He just saw me as his sister.”

The rest of the trip to Val Royeaux was spent discussing how to best address the assembly. The capital was not only the home of the Chantry but also home to various nobles of Orlais. 

“We must simply enter the city as normal people,” Cassandra said, “If we leave our forces outside the gates and enter ourselves, we show that we are not a threat.”

As they reached the bridge into the main square. As they walked, Clara noticed several residents react at their presence with gasps and even a few shrieks.

“Just a hunch,” Varric said, “But I think they know who we.”

“Nothing escapes you, Varric,” Cassandra said dryly.

Clara was impressed by the capital. But she was also wary as she saw The White Spire, the stronghold of the Templars in the city. She also knew that the phylacteries of all the First Enchanters were stored here. There were rumors that they had all been destroyed, but she couldn’t confirm the rumor.

“Lady Herald!”

A scout came running up to meet them from the city square. She fell to her knees.

“You are one of Leliana’s agents,” Cassandra said, “What is going on in the city?” 

“Lady Cassandra, the mothers of the Chantry have gathered in the square to await you. But there also a great many templars.”

Clara winced and squeezed her 

“Of course,” Varric snarls, “That’s what they do best.”

“The city still mourns,” Cassandra said, “They are easily swayed at the moment. We must be cautious.”

Clara looked into the city nervously, but she gritted her teeth and moved forward into the city.

“Wait,” Cassandra said, “We cannot just barge in.”

“That’s unusual coming from you,” Varric said. Solas gave a soft laugh.

“Cassandra, we have to do something,” Clara said, “The sooner we go in, the more quickly we can prove ourselves to the Chantry.”

“Clara,” Cassandra said, and Clara stopped at the sound of her name.

“I understand your desire to act,” Cassandra said, “But we must not risk your safety. Remember where we are.”

Clara nodded. She wanted to burst through the doors, demand that they stop accusing her of murder and heresy, and get back to a somewhat normal existence. But she also knew how the rich and privileged responded to certain situations, especially when it came to religion and politics.

“We’ll be cautious,” Clara said, “But we have to go meet them.”

Cassandra nodded and gave instructions to the agent to return to Haven to inform Cullen of possible delays. 

“You sure do know how to get attention,” Varric said. Clara grimaced and felt Varric was right.

 

***

 

Clara watched as the Templars marched away. Despite all her pleading, they had ignored her. They hadn’t even threatened her. She wasn’t sure whether that was comforting or not.

“There is something strange in all this,” Cassandra said. But there was no time to talk further as an arrow sailed past Clara’s head and landed at her feet.

“What in Andraste’s name!” Cassandra said and quickly grabbed Clara.

“I’m fine,” Clara said, reaching up to touch her cheek. There was nothing there.

“A very impressive archer,” Varric said, holding up the arrow.

“There’s a note attached to it,” Clara said and opened it. The note was barely readable and covered with doodles. 

“There’s someone after me,” Clara said, “This person says they know who and how to stop him. There are clues all over the marketplace that will lead us to the “bad guy.”

“Who is this person?” Cassandra asked. Clara read further down the note.

“Someone called ‘Red Jenny’,” she said.

“I’ve never heard of her,” Cassandra said.

Clara barely had time to think before another message arrived, this one in the hands of a sharply dressed attendant.

“I’m here at the behest of my mistress, Madame Vivienne, First Enchanter to the Imperial Court,” the attendant said, “She has invited you to her house for an evening in her salon.”

“I have heard of Madam Vivienne,” Cassandra said.

“Please tell Madam Vivienne that I am honored and would be delighted to attend,” Clara said, adopting her noble tone. The attendant nodded and departed.

“So we have two places to visit,” Solas said.

“Let’s start with these ‘Red Jenny’ clues,” Clara said, “Varric and Solas, can you follow them while Cassandra and I go talk to Madame Vivienne?”

“Of course,” Solas said, “We shall meet you back here as soon as we are done.”

Varric and Solas went up the market street while Cassandra and Clara headed north of the city.

“Be prepared,” Cassandra said, “From what I have heard Madame Vivienne is a force to be reckoned with.”

The house was incredibly massive. It wasn’t nearly as impressive as her father’s home in Ostwick, but this house looked grand compared to the rest of Val Royeaux. At the gate, an attendant held up his hand.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “But the invitation was for Lady Herald Trevelyan alone.”

Clara looked nervously at Cassandra.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” she said, although she could hear her promise to Cullen shattering in her ears. Cassandra nodded and then looked at the attendant, who shrank in on himself.

“I will wait by the front door,” she said. The attendant nodded and beckoned them inside.

 

***

 

“Let’s not tell Cullen about my little trip alone,” Clara said to Cassandra, as she waved goodbye to Madame Vivienne. Cassandra had been right; Vivienne was indeed powerful and intelligent, a political and magical genius. She wasn’t very altruistic and was bluntly honest about it, but Clara could appreciate that honesty. And, despite it all, Clara couldn’t help but enjoy how the woman had spoken so kindly to her.

“I think that would be best,” Cassandra said, “There is no need to inform him of the Marquis’ threat to you.”

Clara nodded. As they neared the market center, they saw Sola and Varric waiting. Varric was grinning widely, while Solas looked irritated.

“Any luck?” Clara asked.

“This Red Jenny is either a childlike fool,” Solas said, “Or a certifiable genius!”

“Ten royals says it’s the latter,” Varric said, “Only someone crazy smart could be so unpredictable.”

“Our mysterious friend wants to meet us in the courtyard on this map,” Solas said, handing Clara the map of the city. 

“Then I suppose we should go,” Clara said. Her stomach gave a loud grumble and she blushed.

“First, I think we should eat,” Varric said, “I have a suspicion we’ll need it.” 

Despite her hunger, Clara couldn’t eat much more than a small bowl of the stew Varric bought for her.

“You really are too thin,” Cassandra said, “Are you sure you’ve had enough?”

“You said I had gained some weight,” Clara said defensively. Cassandra smiled.

“You no longer look like skin and bones,” Cassandra said. 

Clara blushed. She knew how thin she was and it only served to remind her of her elven half. But she smiled.

“They didn’t want to overfeed us in the Circle,” Clara replied, “I’m just fine. I’m sure a few more meals at Haven will have me eating as much as Varric here.”

Clara nodded at Varric, who was finishing off his fifth bowl of stew. Solas was sitting quietly at the table.

“We have a shadow,” he said softly. Clara looked at him and saw the hooded man sitting in the dark corner. Quickly, she looked away.

“I suppose we’ll know more about him when we meet this Red Jenny,” Cassandra said.

“Shall we then?” Varric said, “Waiter, check please!”

 

***

 

Clara watched as the elven woman fired a seemingly unlimited supply of arrows at the attackers. When she first walked into the dark courtyard that night, the last person she had expected to see was the same Marquis from Vivienne’s little party. As the last attacker fell, Sera turned to look at her with a smirk.

“So, you’re really 'her',” Sera said, “And you’re really just a normal person.”

“What exactly were you expecting?” Clara asked.

“Doesn’t matter,” Sera said, “Point is, I’d like to join your Inquisition. I think you can use me.”

“Who are you?” Clara said, “You...you...are just so confusing.”

Sera laughed.

“Keeps rich tits on their toes,” Sera said, “I’m Sera. But never mind that. Can I join?”

“Sera?” Clara repeated.

“Look, all you need to know is that I can shoot arrows and that I want things back to normal just as bad as you.”

“But what is this Red Jenny?” Cassandra said, “Are you some sort of rebel leader?”

“Red Jenny is just a group of people who are tired of getting pushed around,” Sera said impatiently, “And that’s why I want to join, to make sure this Inquisition doesn’t start that either.”

Clara understood and smiled. She wasn’t sure how she felt about Sera, but she had put things in perspective. 

“Okay, Sera,” Clara said, “We need someone like you. Welcome to our Inquisition.”

Sera gave a cheer.

“I’ll see you back at base,” she said and hurried off.

“What are you doing?” Cassandra asked, “Why would you think we need someone like her?”

“To keep us from getting too big for our breeches,” Clara said and Varric gave a hearty laugh.

They contacted the local authorities in Val Royeaux and told them about the mess in the courtyard. Then they returned to their inn to sleep. Clara felt too energized to sleep right away. In one day she had lost an alliance with the Templars but gained two companions. It was all so much. She climbed out of bed and opened the window. Her room overlooked the bay and she sat on the windowsill, taking in the soft breeze blowing in over the water. 

“Well, Cullen did say to find opportunities to find allies,” she thought. Then she smiled. Thinking of Cullen made her feel more relaxed and she soon found she could sleep. In the morning, Clara and the others prepared to depart.

“If I might have a moment?” 

Clara turned around and, to her shock, saw a very familiar woman.

“Grand Enchanter Fiona?” Cassandra said in surprise.

“The leader of the mage rebellion,” Solas said respectfully.

“You risk yourself being seen here,” Clara said, “But I’m pleased to finally meet you at last.”

“A very polite greeting,” Fiona said, “As I might expect from one of noble birth and a Circle mage. Still, I am pleased to get to see the fabled “Herald of Andraste” as well.”

“You didn’t come to the Conclave,” Clara said.

“Neither did the Lord Seeker,” Fiona said, “It would seem we both sent emissaries to speak on our behalf. I regret the loss of so many, some of whom I counted as friends on both sides. But I am not sorry to still be alive.”

“The Templars have abandoned the Chantry,” Clara said, “Are the rebel mages offering any assistance?”

“We are willing to discuss it,” Fiona said, “I’m here to invite you to Redcliffe. Perhaps we can benefit each other through an alliance. Au revoir, my lady Herald.”

Fiona bowed and departed, leaving Clara to stare after her.

“What do you think?” Varric asked. Clara didn’t reply at first.

“I think we need to speak to our council,” Clara said, “But we have to go to the Storm Coast before that. There’s someone waiting to meet us.”

 

***

“A Qunari,” Clara thought, “Not just a Qunari, but a Qunari spy. Not just a Qunari spy, but an elite, specially trained Qunari spy.”

Clara blushed in spite of herself when she thought of the way The Iron Bull had stared at her still made her feel naked and exposed. She didn’t know much about the Qunari, beyond what the Chantry taught her. But it wasn’t that doctrine that unnerved her. It was the fact that everything was so….permissive. What he had said about sex, marriage, even love. It made her feel unsafe. But there was a certain security she felt, in spite of her initial misgivings. She gave one last look behind as the Chargers packed up to leave for Haven.

“You okay there, Robin?” Varric asked. Clara gave a small jump. She hadn’t even heard the dwarf approach. That Iron Bull had completely distracted her.

“I’m fine,” Clara said, “Let’s get back to Haven.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this chapter title, don't freak out. But there is a very good reason I chose it. "Tramp" has multiple meanings. Vivienne obviously is the familiar meaning, which I don't think she'd be offended by. She'd probably wear it like a badge, considering how much she enjoys being thought of as terrifying. Sera is the "tramp" that wanders around. She doesn't have a home specifically and she moves from place to place. So that's why I went with the title. 
> 
> Wow, thus concludes The Threat Remains. I'm getting so excited to have you continue to read. And you'll start seeing the romance pick up soon.


	9. Interlude: Will the Circle be Unbroken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara returns to Haven and runs into a disagreement over whether to seek aid from the Templars or from the mages. She also hears rumors of a lone Grey Warden in the Hinterlands that may hold secrets to a new mystery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragon Age Inquisition, its characters, and story are the property of EA Games, Bioware, and their subsidiaries. All original characters are the property of the creator. This story is intended for entertainment and enjoyment purposes only and no profit is received from writing. Any and all similarities to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Interlude: Will the Circle Be Unbroken?

 

The day after Clara returned to Haven, Vivienne and Sera arrived. A day later, Iron Bull and his Chargers arrived. Once Clara was sure they were properly settled in, she went to the Council with the news from Grand Enchanter Fiona.

“Are you sure you want to pursue this?” Cullen asked, “The Templars may still be reasoned with. They cannot have completely abandoned their senses.”

“Lord Seeker is not who I remember,” Cassandra said.

“The Templars have abandoned their duties to pursue their own goals,” Leliana said, “Whatever that goal is, it has nothing to do with what we have before us.”

“We should still look into it,” Cullen insisted, “Not everyone in the Order will support the Lord Seeker, I’m sure.”

Clara sighed. They had been going back and forth for nearly half an hour. 

“The mages seem willing,” Josephine said, “And their power is what we need.”

“How do you know the mages will help us?” Cullen said, “They could have their own goals. What if they are the ones behind this chaos?”

“Then they are poor tacticians to let so many of their own die,” Josephine said.

“We need to contain the Breach with the mark,” Cullen said, “Who is to say that charging the mark with more magic will make any difference? It could just as easily kill the Herald!”

“That’s enough!” Clara said. All eyes turned to look at Clara. She was staring at them all with anger.

“Stop talking about me like I’m not here!” Clara snapped, “This wasn’t meant to b a discussion. I am going to go to Redcliffe and talk to the mages. When I return here, then we will make a decision.”

With that, Clara stormed out of the Council chambers. She was so angry, she was barely aware of where she was going. At last, she stopped at the edge of the frozen lake outside the village. The cold air felt soothing against her hot face. But she was still angry. She grabbed a rock and threw it as hard as she could. The rock sailed and fell just short of the shoreline.

“Stupid!” she yelled. She grabbed another rock and threw it harder. It skittered across the ice. Clara threw rock after rock until she fell to her knees, panting and hands scratched and sore. There was a sound of crunching snow and Clara turned to see Leliana slowly walking toward her.

“Have you all finished then?” Clara asked.

“For the moment,” Leliana replied. She sat down in the snow next to Clara.

“Don’t judge Cullen too harshly,” Leliana said, “He does have the best of intentions. Much has happened to him that has made him hesitant of mages. But he is a good man.”

“I know he is,” Clara said, “I promise that I will not make any decision until I have heard from the mages.”

“Good,” Leliana said, “There is another request I have of you. Have you heard of the Grey Wardens.”

“Of course,” Clara said, “They are an order of warriors and mages from all races that band together to defeat a Blight.”

“And have you seen or heard of Grey Wardens the past few years?” Leliana asked. 

Clara looked thoughtful. While many in her Circle had talked about wanting to join the Grey Wardens, there had been no recruitment with no Blight. Clara shook her head.

“Several months ago, Grey Wardens from both Orlais and Ferelden disappeared,” Leliana said, “The timing is too coincidental, otherwise I would not think of it.”

“It does seem odd,” Clara said, “What do the others have to say.”

“Cullen agrees as you do,” Leliana said, “But even he is not overly concerned.”

Clara sighed. It was just like with the mages; Cullen was too focused on his own ideas.

“But two days ago,” Leliana continued, “my agents in the Hinterlands heard news of another Grey Warden named Blackwall. He’s there now, just outside Redcliffe. Perhaps, if you would be so kind, you could meet this Blackwall and see who he truly is?”

“Certainly,” Clara said, “I’m curious to meet a real Grey Warden.”

“Leliana!” An agent came running up the path.

“We’ve received word about the Templars,” the agent said, “They’ve gathered in Therinfal Redoubt.”

“Has the commander been informed?” Leliana asked. The agent nodded.

“He sent me to find you and the Herald,” the agent said, “He thought perhaps you’d want to know.”

Clara blushed. 

“He probably didn’t want to come because I got angry with him,” Clara thought.

“Thank you,” Leliana said, “We’ll be there directly.”

The agent saluted and hurried off.

“Well, this is intriguing,” Leliana said, “How do we deal with this?”

Clara suddenly smiled. She hurried back to the training grounds where she saw Iron Bull watching with great interest.

“Hey,” Clara said, still nervous about the large Qunari warrior. He turned to look at her through his one good eye.

“Cullen is a good soldier,” Iron Bull remarked, “He’s training them well.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Clara said, glancing at the soldiers. She didn’t know what was considered good or bad technique, but they weren’t getting hurt at least.

“I’ve got a job for you,” Clara said, “If you’re interested, that is.”

Iron Bull smirked.

“I’m interested,” he said, “What did you have in mind?”

Clara blushed, trying to push what his suggestive tone brought to mind.

“A little reconnaissance work in Therinfal Redoubt,” Clara said.

 

***

Clara sat at her desk in her bedroom, writing out a report. She crumpled it up and threw it in the bin with the other three reports she had tried to write. Leliana had applauded her suggestion of sending Iron Bull and his Chargers to see about the Templars at Therinfal Redoubt.

“A good chance to see how they perform,” Leliana had said, “Be sure to make a full report to Cullen before you leave for Redcliffe in the morning.”

Clara was too embarrassed to speak to Cullen directly, so she decided to write her report instead. After another two attempts, she finally was satisfied with the work. She gave a stretch and opened the window to let in the cool air. She changed into the long nightgown Josephine had arranged to get her and, as she prepared to climb into bed, there was a soft knock on her door.

“Just a moment,” Clara said, pulling on her robe. She opened the door to see Cullen standing outside.

“Cullen,” Clara said. She pulled the robe tighter around her herself. Cullen cleared his throat. They both stood in awkward silence for a few moments.

“I’m sorry,” Clara and Cullen said together at last. They looked at each other in amazement.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” Clara said, “It was unkind of me. You know the Templars better than I; I should heed your advice.”

“I’m sorry as well,” Cullen said, “I’m too harsh at times. And I heard about your decision to send the Chargers to Therinfal Redoubt. I think you’re right to do so.”

Clara smiled shyly.

“Let’s agree to listen to each other,” Cullen said, “Despite our own personal feelings, we can work together, I’m sure.”

“I’d like that,” Clara said, “And I promise to consider the Templars just as seriously as I will consider the mages.”

A sudden gust of wind blew through the window. It set Clara’s hair into motion and over her eyes. Cullen reached out to catch a strand and pull it away from her eyes. Their eyes locked with each other and time seemed to freeze, save for the wind blowing around them.

“Clara,” Cullen whispered and Clara felt her heart float into her throat.

“You’ve never said my name before,” Clara whispered. 

Cullen blinked and quickly released her hair.

“Travel safely tomorrow,” Cullen said and quickly hurried away, leaving Clara to stare after him, her heart thudding madly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to a new act in the story. Hopefully, you're enjoying it. I don't have a lot to say at this point; it's just so exciting to see so many people reading the story.


	10. In Hushed Whispers Part One: We've got magic to do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara travels to meet with the mages in Redcliffe, stopping first to meet the Grey Warden Blackwall. But when she arrives at Redcliffe Village, there may be much more at stake than anyone realizes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragon Age Inquisition, its characters, and story are the property of EA Games, Bioware, and their subsidiaries. All original characters are the property of the creator. This story is intended for entertainment and enjoyment purposes only and no profit is received from writing. Any and all similarities to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

In Hushed Whispers Part One - We’ve got magic to do

 

Clara yawned. They had been up well before first light, at Cassandra’s insistence. Clara had thought long and hard about who to take with her to meet Fiona. Vivienne refused to go, preferring to avoid an unnecessary confrontation over politics. When Clara asked Sera, Sera had a more colorful response.

“You’ve got shite for brains if you think I’m putting one toe near those mages,” she had said. 

Clara had agreed. She had gone to ask Solas, but he had disappeared, leaving word only that he had gone back to the ruins of the castle they’d found in the Hinterlands.

“It may hold many memories,” he said, “I cannot let such an opportunity go to waste.”

“You don’t need my permission, Solas,” Clara said, “But you have it anyway.”

So Cassandra and Varric had agreed to go with her. That is after Harritt gave her a new set of armor. While Clara enjoyed the green leather leggings and white shirt, the iron mail jerkin over her clothes made her feel heavy and clumsy. But she knew who had suggested the armor. And she wasn’t about to start another argument over it. She’d simply have to get used to it.

“Some more coffee, Robin?” Varric asked. Clara gratefully extended her mug.

“We should be at the reported location of this Warden Blackwall soon,” Cassandra said, “We can rest at the camp beside the lake.”

“Good,” Clara yawned again, “I would rather not fall asleep while talking to Warden Blackwall.”

“Have you ever been to Redcliffe?” Varric asked.

“Once,” Clara answered, “And the memory is not a pleasant one.” 

The camp was already set up when they arrived and the scout reported no news from Haven. Clara crawled into her bedroll and was soon asleep. It seemed she’d barely closed her eyes when Varric was shaking her.

“The scouts have spotted Blackwell,” Varric said softly, “He’s across the lake. But there’s trouble too. The scouts have also spotted bandits.”

Clara nodded and dressed, grimacing as she slipped the new mail shirt over her clothes.

“You okay there?’ Varric asked. Clara nodded.

“Let’s go meet up with Blackwall,” she said.

 

***

Clara cast spell after spell, but her movements felt slow. Still, the fireballs she sent were enough to help Blackwall and the conscripts he had been training to defeat the bandits. When the last bandit fell, Clara released the magic and took a deep breath.

“You’re no ordinary agent,” Blackwall said, “Who did you say you were?”

“I never had the chance to properly introduce myself,” Clara said, “Things got a little busy. My name is Clara Trevelyan. I’m, well, that is..”

“You’re the Herald of Andraste,” Blackwall said, “I’ve heard of you. And these missing Wardens you spoke about. I’m sorry, but I don’t know anything about it.”

“Then I guess I’ll leave you be,” Clara said sadly. 

“No, wait,” Blackwall said, “I think I can be of help to you. I’ve seen how things have been here in the Hinterlands and heard about the rest of Thedas. I’d like to offer my services.”

Clara looked at Cassandra and Varric, who both nodded.

“I accept,” Clara said, “It will be wonderful to have a Warden with us. I have to go to Redcliffe Village. I’d be honored if you came with me before traveling to Haven.”

Blackwell nodded and collected his shield and sword. As they walked along the King’s road, Clara found she was mystified by Blackwall. He seemed very sober and quiet one moment, but then he would be laughing and joking with Varric about jousting. 

“We should be nearing Redcliffe soon,” Cassandra said, “Be ready.”

Redcliffe Village was surrounded by a wall and outside the wall was a rift.

“I want constant surveillance on that thing!” a soldier was shouting.

“Incredible,” Blackwall breathed, “I’ve never imagined it would be like this.”

“You’ll get used to this shit, believe me,” Varric said, “And that’s the sad part.”

Clara sent a fireball at the nearest demon. Suddenly it was gone. A split second later, she felt a slam at her back as Cassandra pushed her away from the same demon. They plowed into the dirt and Clara felt a rock cut into her cheek.

“How did it get there?” Clara asked as she sat up. Blackwall brought his sword down and cut through the demon. At last, all the demons fell and Clara could close the rift.

“What was that?” Clara asked.

“It’s as though time were bending backward,” Cassandra said, “I have never heard of such a thing.”

“Looks like we have a lot of questions for Grand Enchanter Fiona,” Clara said.

The gate opened and Clara was finally able to enter the village. Inside the gate, an elf steward was awaiting them.

“Welcome, Lady Trevelyan,” the steward said, “My Lord Alexius has not yet arrived to speak with you. He is the one in charge of Redcliffe now.”

“What about Grand Enchanter Fiona?” Clara asked. The steward looked nervous and slightly cold.

“Former Grand Enchanter Fiona is also awaiting Lord Alexius at the Gull and Wing Tavern,” the steward replied, pointing into the village. In the village, Clara could see people and mages walking and talking. As Clara walked through the streets, she noticed a quiet young man standing by the water. There was something about his melancholy that caught her attention.

“Are you alright?” she asked softly. The young man turned and looked at her with wide, sad eyes. He was about her age and she knew his face all too well.

“Connor,” Clara said, “You’re Connor, aren’t you?”

“You’ve heard of me,” he said. It wasn’t a question and he looked distressed.

“We met once,” Clara said, “You probably don’t remember. My father took me and my brothers here to offer aid after the Blight. You were very ill at the time.”

“Ill,” Connor said, “That’s a kind way of putting it. I can’t believe Queen Anora agreed to let the mages stay here. The people here won’t have forgotten what I did.”

Clara also remembered hearing about the siege. It was Connor’s story that made her father finally decide to put her in a Circle.

“Please,” Connor said, “You must talk to the Grand Enchanter. Tevinter is wrong. We mages are monsters. We do need to be controlled.”

Clara nodded and bid Connor farewell. She understood his thinking. What he did as a child would be enough to convince anyone they were a monster. But Clara had never thought of herself as a monster.

“Magic creates fear in many people,’ Blackwall observed, “It seems even in the magic users themselves.”

Clara couldn’t argue. Her first use of magic had terrified her as well. But she hadn’t been exposed to the level of magic Connor had at the start.

“Let’s go to the tavern,” Clara said.

 

***

Clara read the note once more as she sat quietly in the tavern. Magister Alexius was not what she had expected; she had pictured someone from the Tevinter Imperium to look much more sinister. But he had been so friendly and when Felix had fallen onto her, he had shown so much concern for him. 

“Are you alright?” Blackwall asked. She looked up at him.

“I’m fine,” she said, “Why?”

“A fully armored man falls on top of you and you ask why?” Blackwall said with a smile. Clara smiled back.

“He kept most of his weight off me, I think,” Clara said, “I’m fine.”

They walked casually to the Chantry. Inside, they could hear the sound of battle and they hurried down to the undercroft. A young man was firing spells of electricity at the demons coming from a rift.

“You made it!” he shouted, “Perhaps you might give me some help?”

Clara and her companions jumped into the fight and soon had the rift closed. The young man was also a mage, with tan skin, dark eyes and a stylish mustache.

“Fascinating,” he said, “How does that work exactly?” He looked at Clara with interest and she shrugged her shoulders. The man laughed.

“You don’t even know, do you?” he said, “You just wiggled your fingers and, poof! Rift closes.”

Clara had never wondered how the power worked and now that someone had asked, she wondered if she should have wondered before.

“Another man from Tevinter,” Cassandra said, “Be careful.”

“Suspicious friends you have,” the man said, “But not without precedent.”

“Who are you?” Clara asked.

“Introductions then,” he said, “Dorian of House Parvus, formerly of Minrathous.” He bowed formally to her and Clara returned it with a curtsy of her own. 

“I’m Clara Trevelyan,” she said, “Am I to assume that you’re the one who sent the note?”

“Yes,” Dorian said, “I trust Felix was subtle in the passing of the message? Perhaps no, considering the cut on your cheek.”

“Oh, this was from before Felix pretended to collapse on me,” Clara said.

“Dear me,” Dorian said and touched a long, cool finger to her cheek. Her cheek grew warm and she felt a small tingle.

“Much better,” Dorian said. Clara reached up to touch her cheek and felt only soft skin.

“Thank you,” Clara said, “I’ve always been terrible at healing magic.”

“I learned about healing when I worked with Alexius,” Dorian said, “There were times my help was needed with Felix.”

“Is Felix really sick?” Clara said, “I thought that was meant to be a ruse.”

“A ruse I shouldn’t have played this time,” Felix said as he came into the room, “I was afraid he’d be fussing over me for hours.”

“There you are,” Dorian said, clasping the other man’s hand in a friendly way, “Does he suspect anything?”

“No,” Felix said sadly, “Though I wish he did. It would mean that he was focused on something other than his plotting.”

“What are you talking about?” Cassandra asked, “What has the Magister done?”

“Alexius has figured out how to change time,” Dorian said simply, “He has created a magic that allows him to warp time. Surely you saw the rift outside the village?”

“Saw it and closed it,” Varric said, “Was your Magister mentor the creator of that?”

“My father is tortured,” Felix said, “He has pledged himself to a cult, a group of fanatics that call themselves the Venatori.”

“What do these Venatori want?” Clara asked.

“I’m not sure exactly,” Felix said, “Father never speaks about them when I am around. I’ve had to do a great deal of eavesdropping. I’ve heard him discuss with others about an Elder One.”

“We came here to ask the mages for help,” Clara said, “Why does Alexius want from them?”

“I have my suspicions,” Dorian said, “But I have a few contacts that I am waiting to hear from.”

“Then why meet with us?” Cassandra asked.

“To let you know that you have allies here,” Felix said, “And to let you know to be on your guard. Because the other name that has come up of late is Herald of Andraste.”

Clara felt her blood turn to ice.

“The magic Alexius is using is unstable,” Dorian said, “And it’s unraveling the world.”

“That’s a lot to take in,” Clara said, “How do you know so much about this magic?”

“Because I’m the one who helped to develop the magic,” Dorian said, “When I apprenticed under Alexius, it was pure theory; something to dream about. But we never thought it could actually work.”

“If that rift was any indication,” Varric said, “It’s working fine now.”

“But why do all this?” Clara said, “Just to get to me? What am I to him?”

“I’m not sure,” Felix said, “He’s obsessed with you; they all are. Maybe because of what you’ve done.”

“You can close the rifts, maybe there’s a connection,” Dorian said, “Or they see you as a threat.”

“Whatever the reason,” Felix said, “If they are at all connected with the Breach, then things are worse than I thought.”

“Why tell me?” Clara asked them both, “He’s your father and your mentor. Why work against him?”

“Because we love him,” Felix said, “And we love our country. But this is all madness.”

Clara couldn’t argue. The idea sounded beyond insane to her as well. He rubbed her arms against a sudden chill.

“You know you’re a target,” Dorian said, “If you expect a trap, you can avoid it. I have to leave the village before Alexius realizes I’m here.”

Dorian turned to leave. Before he’d gone far, he turned back.

“When you are ready to deal with Alexius, I want to be there,” he said, “I’ll find a way to be in touch with you. Oh, and Felix, try not to do something stupid like getting yourself killed.”

“There are worse things than dying, Dorian,” Felix said with a sad smile.

Clara walked back out into the sunshine. The warmth of the sunshine did little to warm the icy feeling inside her.

“Let’s go back to Haven,” Cassandra said, “We can do nothing more here. We need to tell the council.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm writing this story pretty quickly; much quicker than I thought I would have, but I've had a lot of spare time available to write. As much as I enjoy writing, I'm hoping to be back at work soon. But I'll still keep updating this story. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it.


	11. Interlude: No turning back from this unending path of mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara returns from her meeting and is faced with having to make a choice once and for all: Templars or Mages, from whom shall she seek aid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragon Age Inquisition, its characters, and story are the property of EA Games, Bioware, and their subsidiaries. All original characters are the property of the creator. This story is intended for entertainment and enjoyment purposes only and no profit is received from writing. Any and all similarities to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Interlude: No Turning Back from this Unending Path of Mine

 

Clara sat watching the troops train. Or rather, she watched Cullen train the troops. She was entranced by the motions he demonstrated to each recruit. And they so readily listened to him. 

“Cullen’s got their loyalty,” Iron Bull said from behind her, “He respects their work as much as they respect his. When you’ve earned your warrior’s loyalty, there is nothing that they won’t do for you.”

Clara could understand. She had never anyone to put her trust and loyalty in. The First Enchanter of her Circle had been a weak woman, desperate to stay on the good side of the Templars. She supposed she had been loyal to Philip, but she had barely seen him. And even the leaders of the Inquisition had not been trusted at first; becoming a prisoner and threatened with execution was hardly a proper introduction. And yet, she felt she would gladly pledge her loyalty to a commander like Cullen. 

“You there! There’s a shield in your hand, use it!” Cullen shouted. Clara walked curiously over to the sparring recruits. Cullen was talking to a lieutenant when he noticed her approaching.

“We’ve received a number of people among the pilgrims and residents of Haven into our forces,” Cullen said, “Though none of them made quite the same entrance you did.”

Clara laughed.

“I do like to leave a lasting impression,” she said. Cullen smiled.

“You did at that,” he replied. He extended an arm and they walked about the training grounds as Cullen observed the troops.

“How did you first join the Inquisition?” Clara asked.

“I was recruited in Kirkwall,” Cullen said, “After what happened in the Ferelden Circle and in Kirkwall, I was anxious to be part of something greater. Divine Justinia wished for the Inquisition to make a real difference. The Chantry failed to keep the mages and Templars in check, so now we have the opportunity. Our followers will be part of that. There’s so much we can…”

Cullen trailed off and looked at Clara, who was staring at him entranced. He smiled sheepishly.

“Forgive me,” he said, “I doubt you came here for a lecture.” Clara smiled.

“Your enthusiasm is infectious, she said, “Perhaps you should be out there with me recruiting.”

Cullen laughed. The sound was so wonderful to hear that she smiled even wider. They stood quietly together.

“Yes, well,” Cullen stammered, “There’s still a great deal of work to do.”

“Commander, Captain Rylen has a report on our supply lines,” a soldier said, carrying a report for him. Cullen smirked at her.

“As I was saying,” he said and walked away with the soldier. Clara stood back watching, still smiling. She wandered the training grounds, watching the soldiers train. Off to one side, she saw a smaller boy, dressed in too large armor lifting too heavy a sword at a training board. 

“Hello there,” Clara said. The boy jumped at nearly dropped the sword. He quickly dropped to one knee but Clara pulled him back up.

“You don’t need to do that,” Clara said, “I’m sorry to interrupt your training.”

“I’m not really training,” the boy said, “The other men say I’m too young to be training, so I’m doing it on my own. But this sword is too heavy.”

“Maybe you should try a different weapon,” Clara suggested. The boy shook his head.

“This was my father’s sword,” the boy said. Clara winced at the sorrow in the young child’s voice.

“Forgive me,” Clara said. They were both quiet for a moment. 

“Perhaps I could train with you,” Clara said, “I’ve been wanting to get better at fighting.”

The boy beamed and grabbed Clara by the hand. He put down the sword and retrieved two practice swords. 

“You’ll have to show me what to do,” Clara said, “I haven’t any experience.”

For the rest of the afternoon, Clara and the boy parried and crossed their blades. They laughed and cheered each other’s successes and encouraged each other when they failed. At last, they collapsed to the ground, panting from the exertion.

“You’re good,” Clara told the boy. The boy smiled.

“You need more practice,” he said. Clara ruffled the boy’s hair in a mock annoyance. Then he ran off to perform whatever duties he needed to do.

“He’s a good lad,” Cullen said as he strolled up to her, “His father was killed during the chaos after the Conclave. He’s too young to fight, but he’s willing to serve in any way he can in order to protect his family.”

“Poor boy,” Clara said, “A heavy burden for such a young person.”

“I was much the same age when I entered the service of the Chantry,” Cullen said. He looked sadly into the distance.

“Poor boy,” Clara said, placing a hand on his arm. Cullen looked at her and she smiled gently. Cullen cleared his throat.

“The Council is prepared to meet,” Cullen said, “The Chargers have returned.”

Clara and Cullen walked towards the Chantry.

“To become a Templar must be a difficult thing,” Clara said, “You must give up so much. Do you give up more than just family?”

“What do you mean?” Cullen asked. Clara blushed.

“I mean, relationships,” she said, “Like, do you have to vow to the Chantry that you will guard the mages for life or can you ever, I mean…” Clara dropped her face to hide the burning red on her cheeks. Cullen must have caught her meaning anyway because his voice grew quieter.

“No, Templars are permitted to marry,” he said, “Some do take vows of celibacy, but I’ve taken none.”

“Oh,” Clara said and smiled as they entered the Chantry. In the council chambers, Cassandra, Leliana, and Josephine were talking in low voices. Beside them, Iron Bull was pointing out objects on the map.

“Welcome back, Iron Bull,” Clara greeted. There larger Qunari turned to face her with a large smile.

“There’s my favorite redhead,” Bull said and pulled Clara into a one arm hug. Clara blushed at the closeness and glanced at Cullen. His eyes narrowed slightly but he said nothing. Iron Bull let go of Clara and she nervously touched her cheek. 

“What did you find at Therinfal Redoubt?” Cullen said. Iron Bull smirked.

“Nothing,” he said.

“What?” Leliana said. Krem shrugged.

“We found nothing,” Krem said, “There were signs of people having been there, but that was it. The Templars weren’t there.”

“They’re gone?” Josephine said with a gasp, “Where could they all go?”

Clara felt her stomach twist. Whatever the Lord Seeker was doing, it went much deeper than they could possibly know.

“I guess our decision is made then,” Clara said. Cullen looked at her in dismay.

“We shouldn’t disregard…” but Clara held up her hand. The same hand with the green mark.

“I’m sorry, but I’m out of time,” Clara said, “The fact is this mark has been burning for days now. I need to go to the see the mages.”

For a moment, Cullen looked ready to argue, but the sighed and nodded.

“All right,” he said, “We’ll make the arrangements to speak with Magister Alexius again.”

“You may find that more difficult than you realize.”

Clara turned around and saw Dorian being escorted into the council chambers. 

“This man says he has information for the Inquisition,” the soldier with him said.

“Master Parvus,” Clara said, “What’s happened?”

Dorian gave a small bow and leaned casually against the war table. Cullen looked even more irritated.

“They are prepared for you to charge the castle in Redcliffe,” Dorian said, “They set up a trap to take you when you arrive.”

“Watch yourself,” Iron Bull said, “The pretty ones can’t be trusted.”

“More suspicious friends,” Dorian said, glancing coldly at the Qunari, “Perhaps this is a prerequisite for joining. But I’ve come here to help, as I said I would.”

“Redcliffe Castle is one of the most defensible fortresses in Ferelden,” Cullen said, “We don’t have the forces take it. And we can’t send the Herald into a known trap.”

“If Alexius has taken the castle, we cannot let this stand,” Cassandra said.

Clara sighed and leaned over the map, staring hard at the spot where the castle had been marked. The Templars were beyond her reach, and the mages were at the center of a trap set by Magister Alexius.

“If we send her in there, she’ll die,” Cullen said, “And we lose the only means of closing the rifts. I won’t allow this.”

Clara looked up at him, raising one brow in mild irritation. Cullen winced.

“If we do nothing, we leave the mages in the hands of a Magister and a possibly overwhelming power on our doorstep,” said Leliana, “It would seem the choice is up to you, Herald of Andraste.”

“Surely there are other options,” Clara said, “We could contact the arl, or find another way into the castle. Maybe through a sewer or something like that.”

Leliana gave a small gasp.

“There is a small passage into the castle,” Leliana said, “It’s an escape route for the family.”

“We could never get our troops through,” Cullen said.

“No, but we could send agents through,” Leliana said.

“They’d be discovered before they even reached the main hall,” Cullen said.

Dorian touched Clara on the shoulder and she looked at him. Understanding flashed between them.

“So we give them a distraction,” Clara said, “We spring the trap by walking right into it.”

“That’s too risky,” Cullen said, “What if something goes wrong?”

“Fortunately, she’ll have help,” Dorian said, “With my magic, we stand a chance of keeping Alexius distracted while your agents do their jobs.”

Clara tried to look more confident than she felt. Cullen seemed to sense her hesitation. He took her hand in his.

“We can’t force you to do this,” Cullen said softly, “If you’d rather not play the bait, we can find another way. You’re the one at the most risk.”

Clara looked down at the floor.

“Give me an hour to think,” she said, “I’ll come to a decision then.”

Clara left the chamber and went to her room. She sat quietly in a chair by the fire. There was much to consider. The Templars were gone, the mages were all that was left, but they were at the center of a trap set for her by Alexius. And she was feeling the pain in her hand grow by inches every moment. There was a soft knock on her door.

“Come in, Cullen,” Clara said. The door opened and Cullen came in.

“How did you know it was me?” he asked. Clara sighed.

“Because you’re the only one who knocks like that,” Clara said, “Josephine taps out a little tune. Leliana gives the door a sort of open palm knock. And Cassandra almost pounds on the door.”

Cullen pulled up the desk chair to sit across from her.

“I’m sorry about what I said,” Cullen told her, “But I won’t lie about wanting to keep you safe.”

Clara blushed. She leaned her head back against the chair.

“I think I have no choice,” Clara said, “I need to close the breach in the sky. And I need to get the mages to do it. So, I’m ready to go back to Redcliffe.”

Cullen reached out and took her hand again. Clara smiled at him and then gasped as he lifted it to his lips and kissed her fingers. He seemed as surprised by his boldness as she was. But he quickly recovered. 

“I accept your decision,” Cullen said, “So let's go surprise Magister Alexius.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone really enjoyed this chapter. And hopefully all the romantics out there are getting plenty of Cullen and Clara shipping fuel. I adore Cullen and think that a relationship with a mage, while somewhat cliche of a trope, it's still the best story for this character. And I hope you like Clara too. She's not anything like me, but I have enjoyed making her and sending her through the game.


	12. In Hushed Whispers Part Two - A Place in Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara arrives at Redcliffe Castle, prepared to spring the trap prepared for her. But this trap may hold more than anyone knows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragon Age Inquisition, its characters, and story are the property of EA Games, Bioware, and their subsidiaries. All original characters are the property of the creator. This story is intended for entertainment and enjoyment purposes only and no profit is received from writing. Any and all similarities to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

In Hushed Whispers - Part Two: A Place in Time

 

Redcliffe Castle loomed dark and foreboding against the dark night sky. Clara felt her insides begin to crawl like thousands of butterflies trapped in webs. She tried to take deep slow breaths to steady herself, but it didn’t seem to help.

“Don’t worry,” Dorian whispered, placing a hand on her shoulder. Clara turned to see him, along with Cassandra, Blackwall, and Varric. They all nodded their heads to show they were ready. The main doors to the castle opened and two guards escorted them inside. The entire hall was dimly lit. It gave Clara a feeling of unease. 

“My dear friends,” Alexius called from the throne, “I’m so glad to see you again. Come in, come in.”

Clara looked closer at his face as they approached him. He was smiling, jovial, even seemingly giddy. But his eyes were as cold as ice.

“Thank you for seeing us again,” Clara said, adopting the noble voice, “I am glad you’re willing to still consider our alliance.” She smiled sweetly, knowing that it was the same smile her stepmother wore when she had something planned. It was not a pleasant feeling.

“I seek the preservation of our world,” Alexius said, “Just as you do.”

“Then let’s continue our discussion,” Clara said. Fiona stepped forward.

“Are we mages to have no say in our future?”

“Your mages are indentured to me, my dear Fiona,” Alexius said, “As are you.”

Clara cleared her throat.

“If the Grand Enchanter wishes to be a part of our negotiations, then I welcome her as a guest of the Inquisition.”

“Thank you,” Fiona said graciously.

“Very well,” Alexius said sharply, taking a seat on the throne, “You wish to make use of the mages under my care. What will you give me in exchange?”

Clara took a deep breath.

“Nothing,” she said, “Instead, why don’t you explain to me a few things about the Venatori and your time magic.”

Alexius expression didn’t waver, but it was clear he hadn’t expected such a response.

“Whatever do you mean, my dear girl?” he asked sweetly.

“They know the truth, Father,” Felix said. At this, Alexius’ face changed into something twisted and full of horror.

“Felix,” he whispered, “What have you done?”

“He’s concerned about you,” Clara said, “He fears you’re involved in something terrible.”

Alexius sprang to his feet, his face contorted in rage.

“So speaks the thief,” he snarled, “You think you can turn my son against me?”

Clara said nothing.

“You walk into my stronghold with your stolen mark,” he raged, “A mark you don’t understand. Do you honestly think you’re truly in control?”

He bore down on Clara and she leaned away from the crackle of energy she heard in his hands.

“You’re nothing,” he said, “But a mistake.”

“What do you know about this mark?” she said, “And, for that matter, what do you know about the explosion at the Conclave and the death of Divine Justinia?”

Alexius sneered and returned to stand by the throne.

“It was the Elder One’s moment,” he said, “And you weren’t even worthy to stand before him.”

“Father, do you know what you sound like?” Felix said.

“He sounds exactly the villainous cliche everyone expects Tevinter to be.”

Dorian stepped around one of the columns and Alexius went pale with rage.

“Dorian,” he said in a low voice, “I gave you a chance to join me; you turned me down.”

“I shall simply have to live with that fact,” Dorian said jovially. Alexius glared at the company before the throne.

“The Elder One has immeasurable power,” Alexius said, “He will restore the Imperium from the ashes and restore the glory of Tevinter.”

“Who is this Elder One?” Clara said. Alexius lifted his face to the ceiling.

“He will make the world fall at the feet of mages once more,” Alexius said, “And we will rule from the Boeric Ocean to the Frozen Seas.”

“No!” Fiona shouted, “You can’t involve my people in this.”

Dorian slowly climbed the steps, keeping his voice soft and his eyes on Alexius.

“Alexius, why would you support this?” he asked, “This is exactly the sort of madness we  _ never _ wanted to happen.”

“Please, Father,” Felix said, “Give up the Venatori, this Elder One. Let the southern mages fight the Breach and we can go home.”

“No,” Alexius said, his voice breaking, “You don’t understand. He can save you, Felix.”

“Save me?” Felix asked. Alexius began to pace, his breath coming out in short bursts.

“The Elder One promised,” he said, “If I undo the mistake at the Temple….there is a way. You don’t have to…”

“I’m going to die, Father,” Felix said calmly, “You need to accept that.” Alexius did not seem to hear him.

“Seize them, Venatori,” he said, “The Elder One demands this girl’s life.”

The sound of steel cutting through flesh and bone met their ears as one by one the guards fell. The agents of the Inquisition stepped around each pillar as blood pooled around the corpses.

“No, Alexius,” Clara said, her voice sad but strong, “Your men are dead. You’ll be coming with us.”

Alexius looked at the bodies of his dead men. The energy in his hands crackled like lightning. He raised one and a small green stone appeared.

“You are a mistake,” he wheezed, “You should never have existed.”

The stone began to spin and Dorian shouted a warning. The very space in front of Clara seemed to tear open and it began to pull at her.

“No!” Dorian shouted and sent a blast of energy at the stone in Alexius’ hand. Clara let out a scream as the nothingness began to swallow her. Dorian grabbed her hand and they were both sucked into the darkness. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to finish releasing In Hushed Whispers today and tomorrow (Sunday 5/6) is going to be the rest of the first act (In Your Heart Shall Burn and all connected Interludes). The reason for that is because this next week I will be out of town, attending a conference for writing fiction and self-publishing. 
> 
> I've decided to divide my story up into at least three separate stories. This one is "Wings of a Robin" and the next book will be called "The Lion and the Robin" and it will focus on Clara's and Cullen's POV. I think that'll take me through "From the Ashes" up to, I think "Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts" gameplay, perhaps going a bit into "What Pride Had Wrought." The third book is currently untitled.


	13. Interlude: If I could save Time in a bottle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara finds herself in the past with Dorian. She must find a way to escape and prevent a world of misery from coming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragon Age Inquisition, its characters, and story are the property of EA Games, Bioware, and their subsidiaries. All original characters are the property of the creator. This story is intended for entertainment and enjoyment purposes only and no profit is received from writing. Any and all similarities to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Interlude: If I could save Time in a bottle

 

For moments, Clara could see nothing. Then an explosion of green light filled her eyes and she was on her knees in a flooded prison cell. She recoiled at the depth and climbed to her feet. She had little time to gather her senses before she saw two soldiers running toward her, swords raised to attack. She lifted her stave but she was too slow. One blade caught her in her belly and she felt it pierce her skin and muscle. She gave a shout of pain and released a fireball into the soldier's face. He screamed and burnt to cinders. She became aware of Dorian beside her, using the water to engulf the other soldier in electricity. She wondered at first how she was spared, but then she felt the wave of spiritual energy surround her body.

“A shield,” she realized. She sank to her knees, the pain in her belly increasing with each breath.

“Clara,” Dorian said. He pulled her up onto the dry cell floor and leaned her against the wall.

“Are you badly hurt?” he asked. He didn’t wait for her to answer. He pulled up her shirt and examined her belly.

“It isn’t deep,” he said in relief, “Hold still a moment.”

Dorian’s hand brushed against her and Clara gave a small squeak of pain and surprise. Then a soothing sensation filled her body. She could only compare it to her mother’s kiss when she was a child. She felt it stretch across her and center on the wound on her belly.

“I’m glad you were here,” she whispered, “Thank you.”

“Just don’t move for a few minutes,” Dorian said, “The magic will need to time to knit.”

Clara nodded and stretched her legs out. Dorian glanced around the cell.

“Fascinating,” Dorian said, “I wonder where Alexius’ spell moved us. Was this the closest spot to arcane energy?”

“Before we were here,” Clara said, “We were both in the castle hall.”

“So if we’re still in the castle,” Dorian said thoughtfully, “Then...oh! Of course, it’s  not where we’ve been moved, but when.”

“When?” Clara asked, fearing the answer.

“Alexius used the stone to move us through time,” Dorian said.

Clara sat up and winced as her mending skin protested. Dorian was at her side immediately, helping her to stand.

“Is that even possible?” Clara asked.

“Just look around,” Dorian said, “It would seem that the answer is yes.”

Clara stood on her own and walked gingerly. She looked at her belly where the sword had cut through the armor.

“This armor was supposed to protect me from attacks like that,” Clara said, “Why would it fail when it hasn’t before?”

“I would hazard a guess that it’s due to the displacement in time,” Dorian said, “How are you at shield magic?”

“About as good as I am at healing magic,” Clara said. Dorian sighed.

“Then we’ll have to fix that,” he said. He took her hand and held it up. Then he stood beside her and put his hands on her shoulders.

“Reach out,” he said softly, “Feel the Veil against your fingers.”

Clara did and felt the familiar course of magic in her hand.

“Now, pull it around you, like a cape,” Dorian said. Clara did and felt it blanket her in energy. Dorian nodded approvingly.

“Thank you,” Clara said. Dorian nodded.

“Let’s look around,” Dorian said, “Maybe there’s some hint to where...or rather when we are. Are you up for it?”

“This is all just so insane,” Clara said, “How could Alexius find the magic to send us through time?”

“He didn’t so much as send us through time as punch a hole in the fabric of the world and toss it in the privy,” Dorian said, “But don’t be afraid. I’m here and I will protect you.”

Clara and Dorian began to search for some way to escape the cell. Finally, Clara found a key under the water where the soldier she’d turned to ashes had been. Outside the cell, they found that not only was the entire dungeon practically underwater, but it was full of red lyrium as well.

“You have any ideas about how to get us back to our own time?” Clara asked in a whisper. Dorian nodded.

“A few thoughts on the subject,” he said, “Let’s try this way.”

He ducked under the water next to a large stalagmite of red lyrium. Clara hesitated. As Dorian came up on the other side, he looked back.

“Come on,” he said.

“I can’t,” Clara replied, “I don’t know how to swim.”

Dorian looked exasperated.

“What on earth was your father doing before he sent you to the Circle?” Dorian said.

“Bann Trevelyan was doing his best to atone for his impiety through devotion to the Chantry and marriage to another woman,” Clara said bitterly. Dorian blinked.

“Trevelyan?” he asked, “I have a cousin by that name. A distant relation of my mother’s, I believe. Karl Trevelyan.”

Clara looked surprised. She looked curiously at Dorian.

“My father was named Karl Trevelyan,” she said. She had no clue that her father had any blood relations that would extend as far as Tevinter.

“You said ‘was’,” Dorian said. Clara nodded.

“He was at the Conclave,” Clara said. Dorian sighed.

“You’re his bastard then,” he said, “Or rather, his “love-child”, as they say among the Tevinter common folk.”

Clara had not heard the term before. It sounded a bit more positive than “bastard.”

“I believe my mother loved my father deeply,” Clara said, “But I don’t think he returned it. He was lonely after his parents died and he had to give up life in the Chantry to rule.”

Dorian swam back to her and took her hand.

“Come,” he said gently, “I help you get by.”

Clara let Dorian ease her into the water and when the time came to completely submerge, he was there to help her make it to the other side. Clara came up again gasping for air and shaking all over.

“Well, as I said before, cousin, I will protect you,” Dorian said. Clara looked at him.

“Cousin?” she asked.

“If your father was my second or third cousin, that makes you at most a third or fourth cousin,” Dorian replied, “And therefore, you are my responsibility until we can get back to where we belong.”

Clara looked at him uncertainly. His brown eyes looked so honest, in spite of his bluster and grandstanding. At last, she gave a small smile and nodded. Dorian bowed his head to her and the two made their way through the dungeon. 

“Listen,” Clara said suddenly, “Do you hear that sound?”

They followed it into another area of the dungeon. Inside a cell, moaning softly, was Grand Enchanter Fiona. Her body was enveloped in red lyrium.

“You’re alive,” she said weakly, “How.”

“What happened?” Clara asked, “Fiona, what happened to you?”

“The Elder One,” Fiona was struggling to speak, “He is a creature more powerful than the Maker. The red lyrium infects us and becomes one with our bodies. Then his minions mine it from our corpses.”

“What is the year?” Dorian asked as Clara covered her mouth, “It’s very important.”

“Harvestmere, 9:42 Dragon,” Fiona said. Dorian and Clara looked at each other.

“It’s been an entire year,” Dorian said, “Alexius sent us forward in time. If we can get the stone back, we can go back to when we disappeared and set things right.”

“We can stop all of this from happening?” Clara asked, “We have to go back in time and stop all this from happening.”

“I believe we can,” Dorian said, “And we will.”

“Then you will need help,” Fiona said, “Your spymaster, Leliana, she is here in the castle.”

Clara looked at Fiona. She was gasping through lungs made of red lyrium.

“Fiona,” she asked, “What about the others? My companions?”

“In other cells,” Fiona said, “Hurry, stop the Elder One. Save us.”

“What about Cullen?” Clara said. But Fiona looked out through the bars and she seemed to be seeing something beyond any of them.

“Alistair,” Fiona whispered and fell silent.


	14. In Hushed Whispers Part Three - Time Keeps Ticking into the Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the past, Clara struggles to return home by use of Alexius' time magic stone. But what will it cost her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragon Age Inquisition, its characters, and story are the property of EA Games, Bioware, and their subsidiaries. All original characters are the property of the creator. This story is intended for entertainment and enjoyment purposes only and no profit is received from writing. Any and all similarities to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

In Hushed Whispers - Part Three: Time Keeps Ticking into the Future

 

Clara looked at Dorian in horror and saw the same look reflected back at her. It was as though the earth had pulled the castle down and push up every bit of red lyrium it possessed. 

“We’ve searched through countless cells,” Dorian said, “Your companions if they survived this madness aren’t here.”

Clara was beginning to think he was correct. They’d found several bodies of soldiers and even more mages swallowed by red lyrium. She wondered about her companions. What she knew of them did not make her want to give up. Surely Cassandra or Iron Bull still lived.

“Ho hum,” came an all to welcome voice down one staircase.

“That’s Varric!” Clara cried out and leaped down the stairs. Varric was sitting against the wall. When Clara threw open the cell doors, he looked as surprised as if a nug had just appeared.

“Andraste’s sacred knickers,” he cursed, “You’re alive?”

Clara burst into tears and threw her arms around the dwarf. Varric squeezed her tightly.

“How did you get here? Where have you been?” he asked.

“Alexius sent us forward in time,” Dorian said. Varric looked at Clara.

“Everything that happens to you is weird,” he groused. Clara laughed.

“You may be right about that,” she said.

“I’m always right,” Varric said, “And when I’m not, I lie about it.”

Clara stared at him closely.

“Your eyes,” she said, “You’ve been infected with red lyrium too.”

“Yes,” Varric said, “You’ll probably find most people are at this point. But that’s not why you’re here.”

“We have to get to Alexius,” Dorian said, “I think I might be able to reverse the spell.”

“Then let’s go,” Varric said, struggling to his feet. He leaned into Clara as they climbed out of the cell.

“Blackwall is here too,” Varric said, “So is Cassandra.”

“Fiona said Leliana was here as well,” Clara said, “Are any of our other companions?”

“No that I’ve seen,” Varric said. They slowly made their way up the stairs, “I heard that Sera got a fair share of attackers in Haven before she ran out of arrows. Iron Bull did his best to fight back the demon army the Elder One summoned, but he fell. And Vivienne went back to Orlais to defend it after Empress Celene was assassinated.”

“Assassination?” Clara asked, “Demon army? What is this Elder One capable of?”

Varric stumbled and pulled Clara down with him. 

“It’s fine,” he said, “Just give me a moment. The legs just haven’t had a lot of exercises the last year.”

Clara looked at his thin face. He was dying. And he knew it.

“I won’t let this happen,” Clara said, “Let’s find Blackwall and Cassandra.”

Cassandra and Blackwall were in no better shape when they found them in the next level of the castle. To Clara, it seemed to be two sides of the same regret; Cassandra and Blackwall both prayed that her spirit would rest. When they had been convinced Clara was no ghost, both were anxious to seek vengeance in the name of Andraste. But Blackwall’s anger frightened Clara.

“Hold on to that anger,” Dorian said, “You’ll have a chance to expend it soon.”

“Fair enough,” Blackwall said as he found a sword. 

“Cassandra, you look ill,” Clara said.

“I will join the Maker all too soon,” Cassandra said, “It will be my atonement for my failure to all of Thedas.”

“Cheery bunch, aren’t we,” Varric said. Clara nodded, but she couldn’t blame them. If she had been around, she might have been able to stop the Elder One. Cassandra put a hand on her shoulder.

“I know that look,” she said, “I’ve worn it myself. Do not blame yourself. Now we have the chance to put things right.”

“But this future has still happened,” Clara said, “You, Blackwall, Varric, everyone, you all suffered and I don’t want to make light of that.”

“You’ve got a good heart, my lady,” Blackwall said, “To have lived so long to see the world become what it is, I will gladly give up my life now and never have existed.”

“Sounds like something you might write about, Varric,” Clara said. Varric smiled sadly.

“I don’t think I could ever write about something like this,” he said.

“No,” Clara agreed, “And I’m not sure I could read it.”

They worked their way up through the castle to the servants' chambers. A loud scream of pain ripped through the stones.

“That is Leliana,” Cassandra said.

“I’ll let you have it again,” a man’s voice shouted, “Unless you reject Andraste and your pitiful Maker.”

“I will not,” Leliana said and screamed again. Clara and the others ran in the direction of her screams. 

“They’re torturing her,” Blackwall said. Clara felt the blood in her veins turn to ice and she ran faster. 

“You will break,” the man said.

“I will die first,” Leliana whispered. The man brought a small dagger to her throat.

“No!” Clara screamed. The man turned in disbelief.

“Or you will,” Leliana said and threw her legs around the man’s head. He struggled to throw her off but Leliana snapped his head to one side and he fell dead. Clara ran to pull the key from his belt and released Leliana from the cuffs holding her in midair.

“You’re alive,” she breathed. Clara smiled.

“It’s going to be alright,” she said, “You’re safe.”

“No one is safe,” Leliana said, “Not while the Elder One still holds power.”

Leliana began to dig through the piles of weapons in the room.

“You aren’t curious how we arrived here?” Dorian asked.

“No,” Leliana said flatly. Dorian seemed unable to restrain himself from explanation.

“Alexius sent us into the future,” Dorian said, “All of this was never meant to happen.”

“But it did happen,” Leliana said. She rose from the ground with a bow and quiver of arrows.

“And mages always wonder why people fear them,” Leliana said, “No one should have this power.”

“It’s dangerous and unpredictable,” Dorian agreed, “But surely you don’t think that someone like Clara…”

But Clara was not next to Dorian. She was standing before a caged body that was beaten nearly beyond recognition. Clara reached out to touch the blonde curls that had fallen over his unseeing golden eyes. Tears were coursing down her cheeks.

“When?” Clara asked. When Leliana did not answer, Clara turned to look at her. She was facing the ground.

“When!” she shouted. Leliana finally looked up with a sad and cold expression.

“Yesterday,” she said. Clara fell to the ground and began to weep. Varric was at he side, but did not try to comfort her.

“What did they do to him?” she sobbed. 

“Curly wouldn’t stop believing in the Maker,” Varric replied, “And he wouldn’t stop believing in you. He always believed that you were still alive.”

Clara tried to find the opening to the cage, but the lock had been melted, forever trapping Cullen inside. She took his broken hand in her and pulled it to her face. 

“Clara,” Dorian said and she turned her head in his direction, “We have to stop Alexius. If we do and return to the past, we’ll be able to save everyone.”

Clara turned back to Cullen’s body. Then she stood.

“Whatever it takes,” she said, “We will stop Alexius and return home. And we will stop this future from ever existing.”

“The let us go,” Cassandra said, “We are ready.”

Clara gave one last mournful look at Cullen and then headed toward the great hall. Outside, a horror beyond anything Clara could ever imagine waited. 

“The sky,” she whispered.

“It’s the Breach,” Dorian said, “It’s everywhere.”

“It’s because of the Elder One,” Leliana said, “Come, we must get to the throne room.”

 

***

The door to the throne room swung open. Whatever spell or enchantment had been placed on the door, Dorian had been successful in finding the key. 

“You’re amazing,” Clara said. Dorian smiled.

They pushed open the door. The throne room was nearly dark, save for the massive fire behind the dais. Alexius had his back to them and Felix was seated on the floor.

“Alexius,” Clara said, “No more of this. You won’t be allowed to continue this.”

Alexius did not turn. And Felix made no movement either.

“Did you hear us, Tevinter!” Cassandra shouted. Alexius raised his head.

“I knew you’d come,” he said, “I didn’t know when or where, but I knew I had not gotten rid of you. And now it is too late.”

“What are you talking about, Alexius?” Dorian said.

“Dorian,” he replied, “If only you had helped. Your magic was always extraordinary. You could have…” Alexius turned to look at them. 

“I have failed,” he said, “And my punishment is imminent.”

He looked at Felix and laid a hand on his head. The younger man had no reaction.

“Felix,” Dorian said, “What have you done, Alexius?”

“The Elder One promised his life,” Alexius said, “In exchange, I would destroy the usurper.”

Dorian put a hand in front of Clara. Clara stepped around him.

“And was it worth it in the end?” she said, “You have your son, but at what cost?”

Alexius did not answer. Then Felix was jerked up and Leliana held a knife to his throat. Fear filled Alexius’ lined and tortured face.

“No, please, don’t hurt him,” he whimpered.

“We won’t,” Clara said, reaching out her arm toward Leliana, “Give us the stone and we’ll leave him.”

“Let him go and I’ll give you whatever you want,” Alexius said. Leliana sneered at him and the expression made her scarred and broken face even more ghastly.

“I want the world back,” she said coldly and drew her knife across Felix’s throat. The young man sank to the floor, like a puppet whose strings had just been cut.

“No,” Alexius said, “No!” He roared and his magic sprang to life. Clara threw up a shield around everyone. Dorian looked back at her proudly. She smiled. The rift Alexius opened was monstrous and time twisted around like a snake. Demons poured out like maggots from a gaping wound. Alexius jumped in and out of view. Blackwall, Varric, and Cassandra fought hard, but their weakened conditions made it harder. More than once, Clara’s shield kept a fatal blow from striking her companions. At last, only Alexius was left.

“You cannot win,” he wheezed, “The Elder One...he will…”

“He will do nothing,” Leliana said and let loose an arrow that pierced Alexius’ throat, silencing his voice. Dorian looked away as his mentor gasped and gurgled around the shaft. Clara did not regret not taking the killing blow; she felt only sorrow and pity for the man who wanted only to save his child. Alexius was finally still.

“Why?” Dorian said sadly, “Why did it have to turn out like this?”

Clara placed a hand on his shoulder.

“We can stop this from ever happening,” she said, “Can you figure out how to work the stone?”

He picked up the time stone and looked at it. It was a square block, not much larger than an egg, but its sickly green light was not unlike the magic coming from each rift and from the Breach.

“I believe I can,” he said, the swagger back in his voice, “Give me an hour and I should be able to figure out the spell.”

“An hour!” Leliana said, “That’s impossible. You must go now.”

An large explosion came from outside. Every face in the room went pale.

“The Elder One,” Cassandra moaned, “We are too late.”

Blackwall and Varric looked at each other and nodded.

“We’ll buy you some time,” Varric said.

“No!” Clara said, “You’ll die out there. I can’t let you…”

“Look at us, love,” Blackwall said, “Do you think we’ve got a chance any other way?”

“We’re already dead,” Leliana said, “But you must get back to the past and stop this all from ever coming.”

Blackwall and Varric stepped out into the courtyard and the door closed behind them like a tomb vault. 

“You have as much time as I have arrows,” Leliana said. Cassandra took her place beside her.

“Where else but the Right Hand be but next to the Left?” she said. They shared a smile. Dorian began to chant rapidly and the stone began to spin. Clara watched closely but whirled when the door burst open. Blackwall fell to the floor, his sword in his own gut. She heard Varric give a scream and then was silent. Cassandra began to swing and Leliana let loose her arrows.

“Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and wicked and do not falter,” Cassandra chanted.

“Though darkness closes in,” Leliana whispered, “I am shielded by flame. Andraste, guide me.”

“Maker, take me to your side,” Cassandra said.

Clara tried to run, but Dorian grabbed her by the arm.

“If you move,” he shouted, “Then we all die.”

The stone began to erupt in a golden shower of sparks. Yet, Clara kept pulling away from Dorian as she watched Cassandra disappear under a swarm of demons. Leliana shouted and vaulted over their creatures, swinging knife and arrow at each body. But an arrow caught her in the shoulder. The armies surrounded her and one caught her around the throat.

“Leliana!” Clara screamed. The woman struggled in the demon’s grip and shook her head. Clara pulled against Dorian as a blinding white light surrounded them and Clara once again found herself standing in the castle hall, facing down Alexius.

“You’ll have to do better than that,” Dorian said. Alexius sank to his knees. Clara, overcome with fury, raised at hand to strike him. 

“Clara!” Cassandra shouted. Alexius stared into her eyes, unflinching. So different was the man before her now than when she’d seen him before. She lowered her hand.

“I pray that you never have to see what you tried to create,” she said. Alexius said nothing.

“Put aside all claim to Redcliffe,” she continued, “And you live.”

“You won,” he said, “There is no point in continuing this charade.” Then he turned to look at his son.

“Felix,” he said sadly. Felix sank down next to his father.

“It’s going to be alright, Father,” Felix said. Alexius shook his head.

“You’ll die,” he wept. Felix pulled his father close.

“Everyone dies,” Felix soothed, “But knowing my father was an honorable man, I can go peacefully.”

Alexius wept openly in his son’s arms. Clara held up a hand to hold back her guards for a moment, letting the two be. Felix helped his father stand and the two guards escorted the magister from the castle. Alexius walked proudly between them, Felix followed him, looking suddenly weary.

“Well, I’m glad that’s over,” Dorian said cheerfully. The sound of marching feet caused all eyes to turn. Soldiers marched in single file and stood on either side of the Great Hall at attention.

“Or not,” Dorian said. A young woman walked up the hall. She had a regal and proud bearing. 

“Grand Enchanter,” Queen Anora said, “We’d like to discuss with you certain abuses to our hospitality.”

“Your Majesty,” Fiona said, bowing low.

“When we gave you and the mages sanctuary,” Queen Anora continued, “That did not include driving our people from their homes.”

“It was never our intention,” Fiona said, sounding desperate.

“That is not enough,” the queen said, “You and your rebel followers have worn out your welcome. Leave Ferelden, or be thrown out by force.”

Fiona gasped.

“We have hundreds needing shelter,” she said, “Where can we go?”

“Perhaps,” Clara said, coming forward, “I might offer a suggestion.”

She bowed to Queen Anora, who nodded.

“The Inquisition might be willing to take in the mages,” she said.

Fiona looked Clara over with scrutiny.

“And what terms do you offer?” she asked.

“Hopefully better than what Alexius offered,” Dorian said, “The Inquisition is better than that, yes?”

Clara smiled. She looked at her companions.

“No one fights well for their captors,” Blackwall said. Varric nodded in agreement.

“I’ve known many mages,” he said, “They are loyal friends.”

“Do not disregard what they have done,” Cassandra said, “I suggest conscripting them. They’ve shown what they’ll do with too much freedom.”

Clara closed her eyes in thought. All those years, trapped in a tower, forced to defend and explain every action to watchful eyes. She thought of the rebellion and what it was trying to prove; that mages could govern themselves. And yet, they’d allowed another force to imprison them once more. 

“Can mages ever be anything more than prisoners,” she thought.

“Join us,” Clara said at last, “As our allies. The Breach is a threat to us all. This is your opportunity to show the world what mages who govern themselves can truly do.”

Fiona looked surprised and Clara heard Cassandra give a disgusted sound. She marched past her.

“We will discuss this later,” Cassandra said and Clara closed her eyes in irritated anticipation.

“But know this,” Clara said, and for a moment, she heard her father’s commanding tone, “There is no room for failure. The sky is torn open and we will not get a second chance to close it.”

“I understand,” Fiona said, “We will not disappoint you.”

Clara nodded.

“The Inquisition has made a fair, if naive offer,” Queen Anora said, “I’d like Redcliffe back to normal by sundown tomorrow.”

“Then we will prepare for the journey to Haven,” Fiona said. She bowed to the queen and to Clara and hurried off to prepare her people.

“Well then,” Dorian said, “I suppose that, as they say, is that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alexius was the one villain that I couldn't bring myself to hate. I was furious with him, of course, but I couldn't fault his motives. To me, he was a sad, broken, old man who wanted to save his child. And because of how much I respect Felix and Dorian, I can never hurt him as punishment. Future Alexius always struck me as regretful of his choices, so I wanted to make sure he had the chance to see the truth.


	15. Interlude: With a word you dry my tears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara returns to Haven, memories full of the horror she has seen. And yet, in her fear and sorrow, she finds comfort in the arms of Cullen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragon Age Inquisition, its characters, and story are the property of EA Games, Bioware, and their subsidiaries. All original characters are the property of the creator. This story is intended for entertainment and enjoyment purposes only and no profit is received from writing. Any and all similarities to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Interlude: With a word, you dry my tears

 

Clara had never been more anxious to get back to Haven. When she left Redcliffe the following morning, she had wanted to race back. But Blackwall, Varric, and Cassandra had pestered them with questions about what she and Dorian had seen. They had also been surprised to learn of the Tevinter’s kinship to Clara.

“You just never know what to expect from these noble houses,” Dorian said. Clara had given a small laugh, but her mind was elsewhere. Exhaustion was taking hold as she slept fitfully during their journey. Her mind replayed the dark future she’d seen and she was terrified of what failure. Now that they had the mages, she could close the Breach, but would it be enough? Would she be able to use the power? All thoughts left her as the Haven Chantry finally appeared on the horizon. Clara gave her reins a snap and galloped forward, leaving the others behind. At the Chantry steps, her advisors watched as she leaped from her horse, threw her arms around Leliana, and finally burst into tears.

“My Lady Herald,” Leliana said in surprise, “What in Thedas has happened?”

Clara spoke through her weeping.

“I am just so happy to see you,” she said. Leliana looked up as Cassandra and the others finally arrived. She raised a brow at Cassandra who shook her head.

“What’s going on?”

Clara pulled back to see Cullen coming up the pathway.

“The soldiers said they saw the Herald fly past into the village,” Cullen said. He got nothing more out as Clara turned her embrace to him. 

“You’re alive,” she whispered tearfully. Cullen was too shocked to do much more than hold her.

“We’ll tell you everything,” Cassandra said, “Meet us in the War Room.”

Leliana followed after Cassandra, leaving Cullen and Clara outside. Cullen guided her into Josephine’s office. Josephine jumped to her feet.

“Is the Herald well?” she asked. Cullen shrugged.

“She just got back from Redcliffe,” he said, “She hasn’t stopped weeping.”

“I’ll fetch something to drink,” Josephine said. Cullen looked terrified.

“Why don’t I do that?” he said, clearly out of his depth. But Clara wouldn’t release him. Josephine patted his shoulder.

“Just sit and listen,” she said, “I’ll return shortly.”

Cullen sat Clara down on the seat and sat awkwardly beside her. Clara slowly regained her composure.

“Are you alright?” Cullen asked, “You’re not hurt?”

“No, I’m not hurt,” Clara said, “But honestly, I’m pretty lucky I wasn’t.” She told Cullen about the time magic and how it sent her forward in time. She told him everything, save the alliance with the mages. She would save that until she could explain to all her advisors. Cullen sat and listened. At last, Josephine returned with a large tankard of sweet wine. Clara drank it gratefully.

“I don’t envy your experience,” Cullen said, “But I promise that we will do all in our power to prevent that future. We should go to the War Room and talk about it.”

Clara gritted her teeth and nodded.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Josephine asked, “We can wait until you feel more relaxed.”

“No,” Clara said, “There’s no point putting this off.”

Clara followed her advisors into the War Room, feeling that she would prefer rushing back into the confrontation with Alexius. Cassandra and Leliana were in deep and animated discussion. To her surprise, Leliana looked pleased.

“You’re all here,” Clara said. Leliana smiled at her and Clara took another sip of wine.

“I have invited the mages here as our allies to close the Breach,” Clara announced.

The room grew silent. All eyes stared at her, some with respect, some with irritation. Cullen looked as though his jaw might crash through the floor.

“Why would you…” he started, “What were you thinking? Turning mages loose without restrictions? We’re not prepared!”

Clara winced as he raised his voice.

“If we rescind an alliance with the mages now, our reputation suffers,” Josephine said, “We will look incompetent at best and tyrannical at worst.”

“We need them to close the Breach,” Clara said reasonably, “It’s not going to work if we make them our enemies.”

Cullen looked unsure.

“I know we need them to close it,” he said, “But they could do as much damage as the demons.”

“Enough!” Cassandra snapped, “No more arguing. The Herald’s mission was to gain the aid of the mages and she has done so.”

“The voice of reason,” said Dorian as he leaned against the wall, “I was hoping for more circular arguments.”

Cassandra shot him a sneer.

“Closing the Breach is all that matters,” she said and she left the room.

Leliana placed a hand on Clara’s shoulder.

“We should look into this “dark future” you saw,” she said, “Empress Celene assassinated? A demon army?”

“Sounds like actions of a Tevinter cult,” Dorian mused, “Orlais falls, the Imperium rises. Chaos for everyone.”

Cullen shook his head.

“One battle at a time,” Cullen said, “It will take time to organize our troops. The mages will not be here for a few days yet, so we have some time. Let us take this to the War Room.”

Cullen looked at Clara and she lowered her gaze.

“Please, join us,” he said, “None of this means anything without your mark.”

Clara was pleased to hear him sound kind again. She nodded.

“I’d be honored,” she said. Josephine held up a hand.

“We’ll discuss your part tomorrow,” she said, “I believe that you would be better off getting some sleep.”

Clara looked uneasy. But the vote was clearly against her. She nodded again.

“I’ll begin preparations for the return to the temple,” Cullen said, “We’ll need to be informed as soon as the mages arrive.”

“My agents can do that,” Leliana said, “Josie, could you possibly contact our lyrium supply lines to ensure we have enough for this?”

“Of course,” Josephine replied.

“I’ll skip the War Room, thanks,” Dorian said, “I would like to see the Breach up close, however, if someone would be kind enough to show me.”

“You’re staying?” Clara said, sounding delighted. Dorian beamed.

“Didn’t I mention it?” he said, “The south is so charming and rustic. I adore it to little pieces.”

Clara laughed.

“There’s no one I’d rather be stranded in time with, cousin,” she said, “Future or present.”

Dorian returned her laugh.

“Excellent choice,” he said, “But let’s try not to get stranded again too soon.”

Clara yawned and Cullen smiled.

“Let’s continue this later,” he said, “My lady, might I escort you to your rooms?”

Clara blushed. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dorian raise a brown and touch his mustache thoughtfully. Clara took Cullen’s arm and he lead her to the door of her room.

“I’m certain you’ve had a hard time sleeping,” he said softly, “But I hope that being back in Haven and knowing that you have our support eases your mind a little.”

“It does, actually,” Clara said, “Thank you, Cullen.”

Cullen smiled and bowed.

“Sleep well, Lady Herald,” he said and Clara entered her room. She changed and climbed into bed. And as though Cullen had cast a spell of his own, she was asleep in moments and dreamed no dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it for tonight. I hope you enjoyed. I'll get the final part up tomorrow evening. I'll be back next Sunday with a new part of the series.


	16. In Your Heart Shall Burn Part One - No place for a street fighting man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara returns to Haven and defends her position with the mages. She also gets a little practical advice about fighting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragon Age Inquisition, its characters, and story are the property of EA Games, Bioware, and their subsidiaries. All original characters are the property of the creator. This story is intended for entertainment and enjoyment purposes only and no profit is received from writing. Any and all similarities to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

In Your Heart Shall Burn Part One-No place for a street fighting man

 

Clara slept until late evening. She found Dorian outside the apothecary, having an in-depth discussion with Solas. She hurried over but when she heard the discussion up close, she stopped.

“How much freewill could they possibly have?” Dorian was saying, “They’re amorphous constructs of the Fade. In Tevinter, we use spirits as servants. There’s no harm in putting them to constructive use and most mages treat them well back home.”

“And any that show magical talent is free, I take it?” Solas asked. Dorian looked nonplussed.

“Spirits don’t have magical talent,” Dorian said. Solas sneered.

“Oh, forgive me,” he said, “I thought we were talking about your slaves.”

Dorian looked shrewdly at Solas.

“Have I offended you in some way?” he asked.

“If you had, why would it concern you?”

“Because I mean to help the Inquisition,” Dorian said, “And we’ll be working together. And because I respect your abilities.”

“My abilities as a mage?”

“Well, I realize there is more to you than that.”

Solas shook his head with the air of one burdened with heavy knowledge.

“The differences between us are not technicalities to be thrown away,” he said. Dorian looked away.

“I was hoping we might find common ground, that’s all,” he said. He turned to walk away and spotted Clara.

“Hello,” he said, “Been there long. I’m sure you saw my rather abysmal attempt at winning friends.”

Clara nodded. She looked at Solas, who nodded at her.

“Solas is alright,” she said, “He just cares very deeply about elven heritage and the Fade. We all have our passions.”

“Really?” Dorian said, “And what would yours be?”

Clara smiled as they strolled through Haven.

“Books,” she said, “Reading was about the only thing I had in the Circle. It was like escaping into a new world with each new story.”

“Indeed,” Dorian said, “I wouldn’t have thought them permitted.”

“Strictly speaking, no,” Clara said, “But my brother would smuggle them in for me.”

Clara looked up towards the temple.

“Was he at the Conclave as well?” Dorian asked. Clara nodded.

“He was going to meet me there,” she said, “We were going to present a case for Templars and mages working together, as equals, not under guard.”

“You never saw him?” Dorian asked.

“No,” Clara said, “I have no idea if he had even made it. I’m hoping that he may still be alive.”

“Optimism,” Dorian said, “A rare thing these days.”

They walked together to the gate. Outside, Cullen was training the troops, along with Iron Bull, who was playing the part of a larger enemy.

“That Qunari certainly lives up to his name,” Dorian said, “Rather like a battering ram being used to open a tea shop door.”

Clara shook her head.

“He’s been loyal so far,” Carla said, “Don’t start picking a fight with him now.”

“I’m quite willing to keep the peace,” Dorian said, “We all have a common goal.”

“Good,” Clara said, “Dorian if you’ll excuse me a moment, I think I need to have a word with Cullen.”

Dorian gave a small nod of his head.

“I’ll peruse the tavern selections,” he said, “If you need me, I’ll be there or at the little hut I’m staying in.”

Clara walked over to Cullen.

“Good,” he said to a group of sparing recruits, “Don’t let up. If you let your guard down, you give your attacker an opening.”

“Cullen,” Clara asked, her voice sounding much quieter than she wanted. Cullen turned to look at her.

“Take a moment’s rest,” he said. He beckoned her over to the edge of the training grounds.

“Are you upset about the mages?” Clara asked, “You weren’t very happy about my alliance with them.”

“I’m nervous about them,” Cullen said. Clara hesitated before speaking again.

“Are you nervous about me as well?” she asked.

“Of course not,” Cullen said and sighed, “I have no intention of undermining your alliance, but I must protect the people here, and that includes the mages when they arrive.”

“But you don’t want them to be unsupervised?” Clara asked.

“They’re opening themselves up to danger for our sakes,” Cullen said, “So are you. I want only to take precautions to aid them and you. Please accept my advice for what it is; the desire to protect you and others from the dangers of the Fade.”

Clara nodded. She felt rather like a child again in front of her father. She should have considered the risk to mages. Magic left her and all mages vulnerable to demon possession. Her own Harrowing had been uneventful; the demon she met seemed only interested in playing games. But she’d heard the stories of the demonic encounters others had experienced. 

“I appreciate that,” she said, “And I welcome your advice.

“Good,” Cullen said, “Now you should heed my advice and drop!”

Clara dropped to the ground as Iron Bull’s massive arms just missed grabbing her from behind. Cullen laughed as Iron Bull gave a grunt of annoyance.

“Why’d you do that?” he said to Cullen, “How else is she going to learn?”

“You’re twice her size,” Cullen said, “How is breaking her ribs going to teach her anything?”

“You wouldn’t really break my ribs,” Clara asked nervously of Iron Bull, “Would you?”

Iron Bull smirked.

“Not unless you’re into that sort of thing,” he said. Clara blushed. Cullen cleared his throat.

“Perhaps you might enjoy a little example of how to face a larger opponent?” he said. Iron Bull grinned.

“Oh yeah,” he said, “Finally a challenge.”

The two men reached for sword and shield. Every soldier stopped what they were doing to watch the spar between the former Knight-Commander of Kirkwall and the leader of the Bull’s Chargers. Clara watched closely, partly to learn the technique she might need but also to watch as Cullen showed his battle skills. She bit her lower lip in excitement, feeling unexpectedly giddy.

“What’s going on?” Cassandra asked.

“Iron Bull and Cullen are going to have a sparring match,” Clara replied.

Cassandra raised one penciled brow and shrugged.

“20 royals says Bull knocks the commander flat,” Blackwall said. Clara looked up as the rest of her companions followed. Dorian was talking animatedly to Sera while Solas seemed to be only mildly interested in the match.

“I’ll take that bet,” said Varric, “You haven’t seen Curly fight.”

Clara looked at Cullen. He seemed unaware of his audience. Iron Bull hefted the large blunted axe used for training. Cullen lifted his shield into position.

“Good luck,” Clara whispered. She wasn’t sure either of them heard her.

Cullen charged with his shield raised into position. Iron Bull leaped aside and brought the axe toward the back of his head. Cullen ducked under the blade and spun to face his opponent again.

“The first rule of fighting a larger opponent,” Cullen said, “Always make them do the work.”

Iron Bull laughed and charged Cullen, horns pointed down. Cullen was ready with his shield but to his surprise, Iron Bull straightened up and grabbed the shield, flinging it and Cullen backward.

“Second rule,” Iron Bull said, “Anything can be a weapon. Keep your opponent guessing what you’ll use.”

Cullen grinned and righted himself. Clara realized they were truly trying to teach her, but there seemed to be a deeper goal between them.

“Your opponent is going to use his weight,” Cullen continued, “You need to anticipate his moves.”

Iron Bull charged again and this time, Cullen danced out of the way. The Qunari skidded to a halt and whirled, looking impressed.

“Nice move,” he said, “The teach ballroom dancing in the Chantry too?”

Cullen frowned and raised his sword. Iron Bull chuckled.

“You can also taunt your opponent,” he said, “Throws them off their guard.”

Iron Bull and Cullen clashed metal to metal over and over. Clara saw Josephine and Leliana join the group to watch.

“Very interesting,” Leliana said with a knowing smile. Josephine gave a small sigh.

“Very romantic,” she said. She glanced over at Blackwall and blushed.

Iron Bull and Cullen were quite evenly matched in every way. Cullen pressed his advantage until he had Iron Bull at the edge of the training grounds by the frozen lake. 

“He’s got you cornered, Tiny,” Varric shouted. Iron Bull gave a smirk as Cullen swung his sword out. Bull ducked under and grabbed Cullen’s arm, lifting the man off the ground. Cullen’s feet swung in mid-air helplessly.

“You never want to let yourself get cornered,” Bull said, “But if you do, there aren't many other options left...what are you doing?”

Cullen had begun to swing in Bull’s grip, bringing his body closer to the large Qunari. Iron Bull realized a split second too late as Cullen’s legs connected with his gut, winding him. Instinctively, he dropped Cullen and Cullen used the moment to lean into Bull’s body, pulling his arm close and flipped the Iron Bull over him and to the ground. A cheer rose up from the watching crowd. Varric was loudest as Blackwall handed over his winnings. From the ground, Iron Bull groaned and then began to laugh.

“Where did you learn that move?” he asked. Cullen grinned.

“Never hurts to know how to fight dirty,” he replied, “Even Templars know a thing or two about street fighting.”

He reached out a hand to Iron Bull who waved him off. He climbed to his feet and bowed.

“You’ll have to show me that move again,” he said, “Might come in handy one of these days.”

A messenger arrived at the training grounds.

“My Lady Herald,” he said, “The mages have arrived.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rough day at work but I'm posting the end of this first story.


	17. In Your Heart Shall Burn Part Two - The Sky is Crying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Breach is closed but a new threat walks toward them over the horizon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragon Age Inquisition, its characters, and story are the property of EA Games, Bioware, and their subsidiaries. All original characters are the property of the creator. This story is intended for entertainment and enjoyment purposes only and no profit is received from writing. Any and all similarities to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

In Your Heart Shall Burn, Part Two - The Sky Is Crying

 

Clara greeted the mages warmly and saw to it that they were settled into houses or tents. As she walked to bring the counting to the War Room, she passed Vivienne in the corner reading area.

“Vivienne,” Clara said, “The mages from Redcliffe are here.”

“So I’ve heard,” Vivienne said, sounding sour.

“What’s wrong?” Clara asked.

“Simply that I worry we are unprepared,” Vivienne replied, “If Fiona and her malcontents are joining us, there are sure to be abominations.”

Clara looked at her in surprise.

“Cullen doesn’t have enough Templars to handle any incidents,” Vivienne said, “We’ll need to make sure others are trained.”

“Why can’t the mages govern themselves?” Clara asked, ‘They’ve done well so far all this time with no abominations.”

“Does that mean it cannot happen?” Vivienne said, “Darling, you are very naive if you think the Breach is not a great threat to mages.”

“Cullen said as much,” Clara said and sighed, “We’ll train people, but I’d rather not broadcast it. I still want to give the other mages a chance.”

“Very well, I’ll speak to Cullen,” Vivienne said, “I’m sure you understand that no one is safe as long as such magic is present.”

Clara looked at Vivienne.

“Your opinion of the other mages is rather low,” she said. Vivienne smiled.

“Not my opinion, just stating the obvious,” Vivienne said, “Magic is dangerous, just as fire is dangerous. It burns if anyone forgets that fact.”

“Perhaps,” Clara said, “But the Circles aren’t the best solution anymore.”

“What would you suggest?” Vivienne asked, “You will have a hand in shaping the future, for all of us, what do you see as the solution for protecting mages from others and themselves?”

Clara did not answer right away. She thought about the long hours of talk among her friends as they traveled to the Conclave. She thought about the ideas she’d written to Philip about.

“Mages know the risks, perhaps better than anyone,” Clara said, “But we’ve never been prepared fully to face the evils of magic. When they happen, when abominations or madness take hold, were killed. What if we were morally prepared to endure demon possession? The Chantry could help with that; help mages understand how magic can truly serve man. And then, mages needn’t be locked up.”

Vivienne looked impressed.

“A curious idea,” she said. She smiled warmly and Clara felt more relaxed.

“Such twists and turns your mind takes,” Vivienne mused thoughtfully, “It’s something to consider, my dear.”

“Please do,” Clara said, “I’m sorry but I have to get this report to Leliana.”

“Run along, darling,” Vivienne said.

Clara couldn’t find Leliana in the War Room but managed to pass the report to Josephine.

“A moment more, Lady Trevelyan,” Josephine said, “I’d like to discuss your family.”

“What left of them,” Clara said sadly. Josephine winced.

“Forgive me,” she said, “But we’ve received word from the new bann of Ostwick, Lord Tomas Trevelyan.”

“My older brother,” Clara said, feeling a cold heavy weight drop in her belly, “What does Lord Tomas have to say?”

“He says that as bann of House Trevelyan, he is responsible for ensuring that the family name is not, uh, “besmirched.”

Clara laughed.

“His favorite word,” she said, “He was always using that. I’m not even certain he knows what it means.”

“Do you feel he might be amenable to an alliance?” she asked. Clara shook her head.

“Tomas is much like our father,” Clara said, “If the Chantry denounces the Inquisition, you can be sure so does he.”

“A shame,” Josephine said, “Perhaps the success of closing the Breach will motivate others to rethink their stances.”

Clara wasn’t quite as optimistic.

“Speaking of closing the Breach, I should find Fiona. I want to meet with the Council and her to discuss our plan. The sooner that hole is closed, the safer I’ll feel.”

“Very good,” Josephine said, “Oh, would you mind delivering this to Warden Blackwall?”

“Not at all,” Clara said, “What is it?”

“A letter of appreciation,” Josephine said, “The Warden suggested that we employ conscriptions to secure alliances. This isn’t a Blight, but we can still make use of them.”

“Josephine,” Clara asked curiously, “Is that...perfume I smell on this parchment?”

Josephine blushed and cleared her throat.

“All my stationary is scented,” she said softly, “Please tell him I thank him for his work.”

Clara smiled and left the office. Just before the door closed, she heard a soft giggle. Clara quickly found Blackwall and handed him the letter. Blackwall looked pleased; at least as far as she could tell under the large beard. The sound of arguing caught Clara’s attention and she glanced at the edge of the encampments. Cassandra was listening to a mage rant at her.

“We’ve already spoken with Commander Cullen,” the mage said, “No one listens. We want better quarters, the Templars kept at a distance, and some respect for…”

“This is not the Circle,” Cassandra said, “You’re our allies, not our wards. Act like it.”

“How are we supposed to…”

“Deal. With. It.” Cassandra said and stormed away, leaving the mage fuming. Clara walked past him.

“Lady Herald,” he said, “Perhaps you can meet our needs.”

“You wanted the freedom to govern yourselves,” Clara said, “Perhaps this can be a beginning to seek true independence.”

The mage glared at her and stalked away. Clara walked over to Cassandra.

“When I find out who told them I’m the one to yell at,” Cassandra muttered, “I’ll bet it was Varric.”

“I’m sorry,” Clara said, “I know it must be difficult. For everyone.”

“They need to learn what it means to be our equals,” Cassandra said, “It is your doing, after all; your alliance.”

Clara went red with frustration.

“I had to think on my feet,” she snapped, “And I did what I could.”

Cassandra was taken aback by her tone.

“Oh, I do sound like I’m blaming you, don’t I?” she said. Clara nodded.

“I’m sorry,” Cassandra said, “I don’t disapprove. Entirely. After all, you made a decision when it was needed. And we would not be here without you.”

Cassandra sat down on a stack of boxes. Clara sat beside her.

“I wish I could say this was my doing,” Cassandra said thoughtfully. Clara beamed.

“Are you flattering me?” she asked. Cassandra looked at her. Clara began to laugh.

“You should see your face,” Clara giggled. Cassandra sighed but smiled warmly.

“Let’s hope the Breach has your sense of humor,” she said.

 

***

 

Clara climbed the summit with the mages and soldiers. After several hours of discussion, they’d prepared a plan. The mages would position themselves around the Temple of Sacred Ashes and the base of the Breach. Clara would position herself under it.

“Are you ready for this?” Cassandra asked. Clara nodded and flexed her fingers. The mark on her hand pulsed and crackled, as though it knew what magic was about to be unleashed. Solas came and stood beside her to signal the mages were in place. Glancing behind her, she saw Dorian standing on the rubble, waiting to lend his aid.

“Take your position, Herald of Andraste,” Solas said. Clara moved down into the temple and under the Breach. The magic was heavy and nearly suffocating. For a moment, she felt as though she were in a wind tunnel.

“Mages,” Solas shouted, “Focus past the Herald. Let her will draw from you!”

One by one, the mages slammed their staves to the ground. The magic poured out and Clara could feel it creep into her. Scents surrounded her; summer grass, sweet fruit, smokey campfires, flowering orchards. She was filled with new magic and pushed through the magic as though it were a curtain. She lifted her hand up to the sky and squeezed. A bolt of magic shot from the mark into the hole above them. There was a blinding flash of white light and Clara was thrown to the ground, as was Solas, Cassandra, and all the mages. For a moment, there was silence. Cassandra climbed to her feet and pushed through the staggering mages. Dorian pushed in from the other side and both found Clara on her knees, staring up at the sky where the hole once was.

“You did it,” Cassandra breathed and Dorian threw his arms around her. Clara returned the hug tightly as cheers rose up from the crowds.

“Are you alright to walk?” Dorian asked, helping her to her feet. Clara nodded.

“Let’s just take it slow,” she said, “I feel as though I just poured every ounce of life was pulled out of me.”

Dorian slipped an arm over his shoulder and they slowly made their way back down the summit.

“There will be quite the celebration tonight,” Dorian said, “Feasting and dancing. Maker knows what Flissa has been hiding in her tavern for such an occasion.”

Clara laughed at the thought.

“Sera will be delighted,” she said, “So will Varric.”

When they reached the village of Haven, Clara was struck by how far she’d come. When she’d first entered Haven, they’d all been after her blood.

“Clara, are you alright?” Cullen came running up. Clara grinned up at him.

“Just tired,” Clara said, “That took a lot out of me.”

Cullen clutched her shoulders.

“You’ve done something amazing,” Cullen said, “Thedas will forever be in your debt.”

Josephine and Leliana came up and took either arm. Clara looked at them in surprise.

“What are you two up to?” Dorian said, looking amused.

“Just a little preparation for our festivities,” Josephine said, “The Herald must still keep up appearances for the nobility and those among the Chantry.”

Clara looked back helplessly at Dorian and Cullen. Dorian waved cheerfully after her while Cullen stared in awe. In her room, Vivienne was waiting as well. The three of them nearly Clara buried in clothing. Finally, they settled on a white peasant dress. It was simple but striking.

“No need to gild the lily,” Vivienne said. She brushed Clara’s hair out until it fell in soft red waves. Josephine applied a little makeup around her eyes and on her lips.

“He won’t be able to take his eyes off you,” Leliana said.

“Who?” Clara asked.

“Any of them,” Leliana said with a smile.

The celebration was already in full swing when Clara stepped outside. She could see so many people, many of whom had barely spoken to each other, dancing and drinking together. Even Adan, the crusty alchemist turned healer was laughing. Clara pulled a shawl over her shoulders and greeted her companions. Iron Bull gave an appreciative whistle. Blackwall bowed and Sera pushed a mug of ale into her hands.

“You clean up nice, Robin,” Varric said, “Anyone would think you’d lived in noble surroundings all your life.”

Clara shook her head.

“So, Varric,” she said, “What do you think? Could there be another story coming from Master Varric Tethras?”

Varric laughed. “I can see the title now,” he said, “From the dwarf who brought you Tale of the Champion, Hard in Hightown; the newest best seller This Shit is Weird.”

Blackwall and Sera burst into peals of laughter and Clara joined in. She enjoyed the relaxed atmosphere. She even saw Chancellor Roderick listening to the music and tapping his foot. Clara couldn’t help but feel as though she was standing on a massive precipice. She stood looking down at the dancing villagers. Then she looked at her hand for the first time since closing the Breach. The scar across her palm was only glowing faintly. Cassandra came up to join her.

“Solas reports that the sky is scarred, but stable,” she said, “There are still rifts to be closed and Solas believes that once they have all be sealed, your mark will fully disappear.”

Cassandra squeezed her shoulders.

“Word of your heroism has spread,” she continued, “I believe that the Chantry will be willing to discuss an alliance before long.”

“If only they knew how literally I fell into this,” Clara quipped. Cassandra laughed.

“You were in the right place at the right time,” Cassandra said, “We’ve yet to discover how the Breach came to be. That mystery alone may be what path the Inquisition follows next.”

“I’d like to be part of that,” Clara said, “If you’ll still have me.”

Cassandra nodded with a pleased look. Then she examined Clara’s clothing.

“Have you seen Commander Cullen yet?” she asked.

“No, I haven’t.”

“You should,” Cassandra smirked, “Perhaps you can get him to dance. Oh, speak of the man.”

Cullen was running up the path. Clara raised a hand to wave and then froze. The look on his face was not one of joy or pleasure, but fear.

“Forces approaching,” he shouted, “To arms!”

“Forces?” Cassandra said. The two women looked up at the trees and saw burning lights of countless torches.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost done.


	18. In Your Heart Shall Burn Part Two - Oh, let the world come crashing down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragon Age Inquisition, its characters, and story are the property of EA Games, Bioware, and their subsidiaries. All original characters are the property of the creator. This story is intended for entertainment and enjoyment purposes only and no profit is received from writing. Any and all similarities to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

In Your Heart Shall Burn Part Three - Oh, let the world come crashing down

 

Cullen ran up to them as they arrived next to the gate. Josephine stood beside Blackwall, who had his sword ready in waiting.

“Cullen, what’s going on?” Cassandra asked.

“One watchguard reported a massive force on the mountainside,” Cullen said.

“Under what banner?” Josephine asked.

“None,” Cullen said. Josephine stared in surprise. Clara watched the There was a burst of light under the gate and the smell of summer.

“I can’t come in unless you open!” a voice called from the other side. Clara looked at the others before she reached for the gate. Cullen took her hand.

“Don’t!” he said, “You’ve no idea who that is.”

“But he needs us!” Clara said, “He sounds so young!”

Clara pushed open the gate. An armored man stalked toward her, sword raised to strike. Clara gave a gasp and covered her face. There was a grunt and the man fell. Behind him, a thin young man lowered a knife. He was very pale, with long lanky arms and legs. A wide-brimmed hat nearly obscured his wide, ice blue eyes.

“I’m Cole,” he said, “I came to help.”

“What’s going on?” Clara said, “Help how?”

“I came to warn you,” Cole said, “People are coming to hurt you. You probably already know.”

“Who is coming?” Clara said. The young man became very quiet.

“The Templars come to kill you,” he said.

“Templars,” Cullen said, stepping between Cole and Clara and holding out an arm to defend her. Cole stepped back quickly, arms crossed in front of him.

“Is this how the order responds to our negotiations with the mages?”

“They went to the Elder One,” Cole said. He looked at Clara, “You know him? He knows you. You took his mages.”

He pointed into the trees on the mountainside. In a break in the foliage, a man, dressed in red armor, stood with sword drawn. Appearing beside him in a fog of foul smoke was a creature out of the worst of nightmares Clara had experienced. His face was twisted and stretched over his skull and he bore the look of darkspawn. His body was skeletal and he seemed to be infected with red lyrium.

“I know that man,” Cullen said, “But this Elder One...I’ve no idea.”

Cole gently touched Clara’s shoulder.

“He’s very angry that you took his mages,” he said.

Clara backed away. It seemed she had finally fallen over the edge of the precipice. She looked around. People were defenseless, staring in horror up at the approaching force that bore down on them like a storm.

“Cullen, give me a plan!” she said, “Anything!”

“We’re not in a fortress,” he said, “We must control the battle to give our people time to seek shelter.”

Clara’s companions joined her, Solas carrying Clara’s stave. 

“We’ll hold them off,” Clara said. Cullen looked as though it was the last thing he wished she’d said.

“Use everything you can,” he said, “Our soldiers will help on the trebuchets.”

Cullen drew his sword and turned to the crowd.

“Mages, you have sanction to engage them!” he shouted, “That is Samson and he will not make it easy. Now for the Inquisition and our lives, we stand with the Herald. Attack!”

Clara surged forward and heard the men and women she’d found across Thedas close at her heels. For the next hour or so, Clara’s mind was a swirl of clashing swords, spells, and flying rocks. 

“We need to get to the trebuchet at the end of the village,” Cassandra shouted, “If we fire it towards the mountain, we can create a slide to cover the enemy.”

Clara nodded and let loose with a wall of fire to clear the way. The trebuchet was armed, but there was no one alive to turn it.

“Blackwall and Iron Bull, you turn the trebuchet,” Solas said, “We’ll hold everyone else off.”

Iron Bull grabbed hold of the lever and began to turn it. Clara was gasping for breath. She knew she should be freezing, but she was so overcome with terror and adrenaline that she was hardly aware of the cold. At last, Iron Bull shouted that the trebuchet was ready.

“Hold on!” Clara shouted, “Not yet!” 

Sera shouted a curse. But Blackwall waited. She looked out at the mountain, waiting for the last row of torches to crest the horizon. Finally, the edge was dark.

“Now!” she shouted and Blackwall fired. The rock flew and crashed into the mountainside. Snow and rock came tumbling down the face and over the screaming horde. The Inquisition soldiers began to cheer. Varric slapped Clara on the back. But their victory was short lived as a terrifying screech filled the air. Clara looked up in horror as the enormous scaly body and armored hide of a High Dragon dove at the village and let loose a stream of fire.

“Get back to the Chantry,” Cassandra shouted. As they ran, Clara saw Harritt desperately pounding on his house. Iron Bull swung his axe and broke through the barricaded door. Cullen was waiting for them at the gate as they raced through. Then the soldiers closed the gate.

“We need everyone back at the Chantry,” Cullen said, “It’s the only building with any chance to defend against that….beast.”

He turned to look at her.

“You should come with me,” he said, “I don’t like you at risk. So much is at stake.”

“No,” Clara said, “I need to do what I can. I promise I’ll be careful.”

Cullen sighed and removed his red mantle. He covered her shoulders.

“Hopefully this will provide some protection for you,” he said, “Whatever you do, make that thing hear you.”

Clara nodded and hurried off. The Templars inside the village were not what she was expecting. They were infected with red lyrium and stood as towering monsters, more than a match for Iron Bull. Clara could barely recall how she made it through, but as she worked her way through the village, she heard shouts of trapped people.

“There are survivors,” Cassandra said. 

“Varric, you and Sera get into the tavern,” Clara said, “Blackwall, Dorian, and Cassandra, check the houses. Iron Bull, head toward the Chantry with Vivienne and stop any Templars attacking the Chantry. Solas, you and I will check the apothecary.”

They raced off. Solas and Clara found several trapped villagers beside the houses around the apothecary, including Adan. 

“Hurry, before the jars explode,” he shouted. Clara pulled at the fallen beam over Adan’s leg. The wood was hot and it burned her skin. But she pulled Adan away just as the jars exploded. 

“Get to the Chantry!” Clara shouted. They sent a few more villagers to the Chantry before the High Dragon shot a fireball near them. It shattered buildings and Solas threw his body over Clara’s. When the dust settled, Solas sat up.

“Are you unhurt?” he asked. Clara shook her head

“How about you?” she asked, “How did you not get hurt?”

Solas held up his hand and lowered the massive shield around them.

“Perhaps I will be able to show you this shield spell at another time,” he said, “For now, let us head to the Chantry.”

Clara arrived just in time to help the rest of her companions help destroy a group of the Red Templars that tried to flank them.

“Hurry,” cried Chancellor Roderick from the Chantry door, “The Chantry is your sanctuary.”

Clara raced in, followed by the others. Chancellor Roderick had a hand on his chest. Blood was pooling into the pristine white robes and leaving a trail in his wake. Cole looped one arm over his shoulder.

“He tried to stop a Templar,” Cole said, “The blade went deep. He’s going to die.”

“What a charming boy,” Roderick said. Clara bowed her head. She had never liked the cleric, but she would not wish such a death on anyone. Cullen came around the corner.

“Clara,” he said and hugged her, “Are you alright?”

“Yes, for the moment,” she said Cullen nodded.

“Our position here is not good,” he said, “That dragon stole back any time you bought us.”

“It’s an archdemon,” Cole said, “I’ve seen one once. In the Fade, but it looked like that.”

“I don’t care what it looks like!” Cullen snapped. Cole winced again. Clara put a hand on Cullen’s arm.

“It cut a path for the enemy to break through and kill everyone in Haven,” Cullen said, forcing to speak quieter.

“The Elder One just wants the Herald,” Cole said, “He doesn’t care about the village, but he’ll destroy it to get to her.”

“Then I’ll go,” Clara said, “If it saves our people, I’ll turn myself over.”

“No!” Cullen said.

“He wants to kill you,” Cole continued, “No one else matters; he won’t stop killing them just because he gets you. I don’t like him.”

Cullen and Clara stared at the boy.

“You don’t like…” Cullen sighed, “Herald, there is nothing more I can suggest. We cannot win this scenario here. We can stop the army if we create another avalanche.”

“We’ll bury Haven,” Clara said, “We’d never escape.”

“It’s not often we can choose how we die,” Cullen said sadly, “Many do not get that choice.”

Roderick gave a gasp. Cole looked at him and then turned to look up the hall.

“Yes,” Cole said, “Chancellor Roderick knows what to do. He wants to say it before he dies.”

Clara knelt down next to him.

“There is a path,” Roderick gasped, “Unless you’d taken the summer pilgrimage, you never find it. I stumbled upon it, by chance.”

“What are you saying, Roderick,” Clara asked softly. Roderick looked at her and gave her the first kind smile she’d seen him use. He squeezed her hand.

“I believe that Andraste showed me that path for such a time as this,” he said, “And if that is so, then I must believe you were chosen by Andraste for this time as well.”

Clara looked at Cullen.

“If Roderick shows us the path, we may stand a chance,” Cullen said, “But we’ll need time.”

“I can distract it,” Clara said, “Buy you the time you need. When you’ve gotten everyone out, I’ll set of the trebuchets.”

Cullen gripped her shoulders. 

“But how will you escape?” he asked. Clara could not meet his gaze and Cullen went cold. But he shook his head.

“Perhaps you’ll surprise it,” Cullen said, trying to sound hopeful, “Perhaps you’ll find a way.”

“Herald,” Roderick said, “If you are meant for this, I will pray for you.”

Cole helped Roderick down the hall. Cullen looked back.

“Look for my signal above the tree line,” he said, “And Clara if you are to have a chance, let that thing hear you.”

Clara marched toward the door and found her companions waiting.

“Going somewhere without us?” Varric asked.

“I can’t ask you to do this,” Clara said, “I won’t ask you to risk your lives.”

“Good,” Iron Bull said, “Because we’re not giving you the chance.”

“I said maybe you needed a Warden to see this through,” Blackwall said, “Turns out I might have been right.”

Clara looked at all of them. Even Sera was ready.

“Blah-blah, arrow in my face,” she said, “Let’s go get their breeches.”

“How could I let my cousin go without me,” Dorian said. Cassandra also nodded.

“The Right Hand of the Divine is ready,” she said.

“As is First Enchanter of Orlais, my dear,” Vivienne said.

“Solas?” Clara asked. Solas looked at her.

“Na din’an sahlin!” Solas said, “Their death has come.”

Clara nodded and they pushed open the door as one.

 

***

Clara stood gasping. The warriors would not stop coming. And bearing down on them now was a massive creature made entirely of red lyrium. 

“Turn the lever,” Cassandra shouted, “We’ll handle this monster.”

Clara turned it as hard as she could. At last, the trebuchet was in position. She turned to help her friends and the creature came crashing down. As though sensing the impending danger, the High Dragon let out a breath of fire. Clara ducked. The wall of fire separated her from the rest of her companions. She looked at them.

“Go!” she shouted, “Get out of here!”

“We can’t leave you,” Cassandra said. Dorian tried to breach the fire, but Iron Bull held him back. We was shouting in his home language.

“GO!” Clara yelled, using her voice of nobility and reluctantly, her friends hurried away. Clara hurried ran to the lever, but another ball of fire sent her flying back and crashing into the ground. She felt the wind come rushing out of her body and she gasped to try and pull in back in. From the fire, she saw the skeletal figure of the Elder One approaching. Clara pulled herself up. She felt the ground around her shaking as the High Dragon came bounding forward. It bared its sharp teeth at her. Clara reached for her stave but found nothing. It lay in pieces on the ground where she had fallen.

“Enough!” the Elder One said. He sent a pulse a magic around them, let the fire settle so he could walk forward. Clara back away as far as she dared.

“Pretender, you toy with forces beyond your ken,” he said, “But no more.”

“I’m not afraid of you,” Clara shouted, “Who are you? Why are you doing this?”

The Elder One surveyed her through red eyes.

“Because you are my enemy,” he said, “Because you are in the way. Because I can. As for who I am, know me for what you have pretended to be.”

He stood towering over her and reached out a bony hand.

“Exalt the Elder One! The will that is Corypheus. You will kneel.”

Clara stood her ground.

“No,” she said, “I will not just let you do this.”

Corypheus seemed amused by her refusal.

“You resist,” he said lazily, “You will always resist. But it matters not.”

He held up his other hand, which contained a stone orb. It seemed familiar to Clara, though she couldn’t imagine where she would have seen it. It began to glow red with magic.

“I am here for the Anchor,” Corypheus said, “Let the process to remove it begin.  
Clara gasped and clutched her hand as the magic from the mark erupted into a shower of green flame and agony. Slowly, the magic pulled at her hand until it dragged her closer to the mage. Behind her, the dragon was at her back, its hot breath putrid in her nose.

“What you flail at the rifts, I created to open them,” Corypheus said, “You interrupted the ritual I have been planning for years. And, rather than dying, you stole the Anchor and twisted its purpose.”

He snapped his arm again and Clara was pulled harder. She felt as though her arm might rip off. And all the while, she felt it burn in her body like the fire around her.

“What is this thing meant to do?” Clara gasped through gritted teeth.

“It is meant to assault the heavens,” Corypheus answered, “It is meant to bring certainty where there is none, and the certainty you have that I would always come for it.”

Clara fell to her knees as the pain stole all her strength. Corypheus reached down and picked Clara up by her arm.

“I once sought to serve the old gods of the empire,” he said, “I breached the Fade in their name. I found only chaos, corruption, and dead whispers. For a thousand years, I was driven mad with confusion. No more.”

Clara’s mind was awash in pain and terror, but in the back of her mind, she saw that she could escape him. She need only wait. Just a little closer.

“I have found the will to breach the Fade once again,” he said, “Beg that I succeed, for I have seen the throne of the gods, and it was empty.”

“No!” Clara said and kicked out hard, catching the mage in the sternum and sending him down in pain. Then, as Clara’s feet touched the ground, she pulled back. On his arm and sent him sprawling to the ground at her feet. Clara raced to the trebuchet but the mage reached out his hand again and Clara felt her throat constrict and her body lifted into the air.

“The Anchor is permanent,” Corypheus said, “You have spoiled it with your stumbling.”

Corypheus threw her hard against the trebuchet and she collapsed, coughing. She picked up a fallen sword on the platform and held it as she’d seen Cullen do so often. Corypheus stared at her, the High Dragon at his heels.

“So be it,” he said, “I will start anew, and find a way to bring this world the nation - and god - it requires.”

Clara looked up at him. Behind him, high above the trees, she saw the flaming arrow and sighed. Tears filled her eyes as she thought of Cullen’s warm smile and soft voice.

“ _Perhaps you will find a way_ ,” his voice floated back to her.

“And you,” Corypheus said, “Unknowing rival though you are, you must die.”

Clara glanced at the lever and pointed the sword at the ancient mage.

“You expect us to surrender and kneel,” she said, “We will not. You’ll face us all. When we choose!”

She kicked at the lever and released the chains holding the rock. It sailed through the air and into the face of the mountain. Snow, ice, and rocks poured down like water and Clara began to run, although she knew she could never hope to escape. She distantly heard the shriek of the dragon and the flapping of wings. She could feel the snow at her heels. She clutched at Cullen’s mantle tighter as the pressure of the snow crashed around her. She reached the edge of the village foundation, overlooking an empty quarry. In one last desperate moment, she leaped from the cliff and fell through space, into darkness and the cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That completes the first part in the series. Stay tuned in a week for the second book in the series, now entitled Robin Nesting in His Mane. It will feature both Clara and Cullen's perspective, as well as a lot more romance and even a little smut.
> 
> Thank you for reading my story. I can't wait to continue.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading my story. It will follow the narrative of the video game for a beginning, but will then follow a unique, individual storyline that follows the plot of the game. At first, I will have much of the events in the game itself to establish the characters, but after which, I will only refer to events in gameplay after the fact.
> 
> Please leave kudos and comments. They are greatly appreciated and will give me a good direction to pursue as I update this story. Thank you for reading again.


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